Percy Jackson and the Spell of the Hunger Games
by Elphaba01
Summary: Basically, this story is about all my favorite fandoms all mushed up to make one. I tried really hard to characterize it! :D Percy and Annabeth gets sucked into this magical spell that arrives to the Hunger Games. They are picked as tributes, and so is Harry Potter and his mysterious apprentice, Katniss and Peeta. All rights to Rick Riordan, Suzanne Collins and J.K Rowling! Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I just wondered what would happen if all the fandoms came to make one, so that's how I got the idea. **

**Enjoy, feel free to review. :)**

Chapter 1

**ANNABETH II**

"No," Annabeth said, snatching her strategy books off from the shelf in frustration. "The De Vinci Code was all a scam. It has been scientifically proven that the way Jesus's face on that sheet of fabric is printed can't be done. If it was real, the nose would look like one big blob of brown blood."

"Wise-Girl, don't underestimate the power of Leonardo De Vinci," he said. He pecked her on the cheek and grinned menacingly as she tried not to smile.

"Argh, c'mon, Seaweed Brain," she said, laughing, lacing her fingers between his and dragging him behind her. "Cabin Council meeting, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. Annabeth giggled at his dumb remark, knowing full well that he was actually quite intelligent for a sailor.

Camp Half-Blood was just like it used to be; peaceful and no war going on. Now that Percy had finally saw her in a different light, she had almost forgotten about Luke, Selena, Beckendorf and all the other fallen warriors.

_Almost._

Every night she would replay some horrific scenes in her head. Sometimes it would be when she had to hold up the sky. Sometimes it was seeing Luke in his shroud and Hermes's evil glances. Sometimes it was something not terrible but a painful memory, like the day Luke had given her the promise. Though mostly it was the choice she had to make to either trust or distrust Luke, and every time she saw the way Luke had died she woke up with tears streaming down her eyes.

But every time she saw Percy, all those memories vanished. He was the only thing on this cruel world that never left or betrayed her – except from Grover, of course – and the only person that loved her for who she was.

As they reached the Big House, she quickly squeezed Percy's hand and he yelped a small 'Ow!' (He got stabbed, blown up and attacked by a hellhound, but a gentle squeeze hurt. Go figure.)

Chiron was sitting down on his wheelchair, reading a book that looked at least 100 years old. Clarisse was arguing with Will Solace, which wasn't any surprise. After Selena Beauregard passed away, Clarisse has become even more stubborn than normal. She kept leashing out on the Apollo cabin for no reason at all. Once she bawled at one new Apollo camper for approaching her in the sword arena.

Anyway, Connor laid a whoopee cushion on Katie Gardner's seat while Travis was looking at one girl and back at the cushion, both of them trying to stifle a snicker as Katie approached. She squealed when she sat, hearing the noise, and then scowled at them both like her mother would, her face bright red.

All the noise died as soon as they saw Percy, knowing that the meeting always started when he came. "Okay, so what's this meeting all about?" he said, slipping his hand out from Annabeth's grasp as they both sat down on a chair.

Chiron put his book down. "There's been something stirring in the forest," he said, focusing on them all. Annabeth sighed, knowing this is going to shake up camp again from its peaceful slumber.

"I found this faint but bright green glow at the far North of the forest while setting traps for the golden dragon," Jake Mason, head of the Hephaestus cabin, said.

"What do you think it is?" Katie asked.

Everyone focused on the girl that Travis took interest in, and she shrugged. Annabeth guessed she was from Hecate cabin, because she kept (literally) throwing one of her fingers up into the air and catching it again. "I'm not sure, but I think it might have something to do with the dream I had last night."

She paused, focusing her deep brown eyes at Annabeth. "It was about a place thousands of years in the future. There's a vast amount of woodland, and you two –" she looked at both Percy and Annabeth, "are there, just waiting for someone to attack."

"Do you know what forest this is?" Chiron asked.

"It's not our forest," she said. "I felt a sense of force around it. Some force-field around that wood, so nothing could escape from that place, not unless you wanted to be electrocuted."

"So how does this link in with the glow?" Will said, suddenly taking interest.

She rolled her eyes. "If you even touch the glow, you'll get sucked into the future."

"Cool!" Travis and Connor exclaimed, giving each other high-fives to each other.

"That settles it then," Annabeth said forcefully, standing up. "Me and Percy will go to the future."

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "It's not that simple."

"It is." She turned to the Hecate girl. "Did you see anyone else in that dream?"

"Not anyone I notice from here, but –"

"Then it's obvious," she said. "Anyone against this decision?"

Nobody protested, which was surprising. In almost every meeting there has been an argument of some kind, but she decided to ignore. She nodded at Percy, and he reassuringly smiled back.

"The meeting has ended. Get back to your lessons," Chiron said, clearly unimpressed. He then turned his head to face them both before they had the chance to exit out of the door. "As for you two – meet me at Zeus's Fist as soon as you have finished your activities. We'll see if Lou is right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. I really appreciate it! **

**I'm sorry if this might be a little short, but I promise I'll make a longer one next time!**

**I tried to make it a bit humorous in this chapter. It was a bit hard, because it was set in District 12, but let's see if you like it!**

**Enjoy! xD**

Chapter 2

**PEETA **

A red-headed girl zaps something at a boy as he runs as fast as he could. Peeta could see the sweat coming down from his fore-head, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, the worry in his face as he eyed something or someone. He looked like he did this many times before – with the brave look on his face and the experienced eyes – but Peeta could tell that this boy was desperate.

Peeta yelled to get the boy's attention, but his voice failed him. He tried to move his feet, but it stayed on the ground. It frustrated him; he hated this.

Then something happened that shocked him.

As the boy runs into another girl – a beautiful girl with icy gray eyes and olive skin that is covered with mud and scars. Her gorgeous long black braid trails down her back. _Katniss!_

Peeta woke up breathing in and out heavily. His worn-out pillow was drenched in sweat, as usual. Recently, he has been having really strange dreams that didn't make sense, things that sounded totally impossible.

Take the time when he dreamt about weird half-goat, half-human goat joking about acorns. Or the time when a 7-foot man gave a Cyclops a stick.

He got up, knocking on his brothers' door as he walked through his claustrophobic hallway. It was the reaping today – his mother would absolutely kill him if he forgot to wake them all up.

As predicted, his brothers got up right away, not any of them speaking a word as the both of them went downstairs. Peeta could tell they were nervous; the way they shared worried glances and walked hurriedly.

Personally, Peeta wasn't really bothered about the reaping. It was just something that happened, like a crueller Christmas. Of course, he was if not a little terrified of getting picked, but, like normal, he always iced cakes to bring out his fear.

He remembered when he iced a ghost cake. The horror on his older brothers' faces was priceless. Although slaps and the rolling pin hurt and certainly gave him a black eye or two, it was worth it, in a way.

"Good morning," greeted Peeta's father, sitting on a small rounded table by himself. "Happy reaping."

"Same to you," Peeta smiled, dragging a chair over to the table. He examined his father's face as he sat down. "Something wrong?"

"Just worried, that's all," he grumbled. "Like the Capitol says: 'May the odds be ever in your favour.'"

Peeta looked around the room. The oak floor squeaked as the eldest of his brothers marched off towards the door, the bell ringing as he exited. The mouldy sign swung side to side, making Peeta think of clocks. The oven gave a lot of warmth to the bakery and the house, but his father still shook.

"We've only got two bits of paper in that bowl –" Peeta began.

"That's the point," he said, his fists slamming on the table. Both of them were silent for a moment, then he continued, "Remember last year? A poor District 6 girl got picked and had her name in _once_. What if one of you got picked?"

"If I got picked, it'd be good for your , wouldn't it?" Peeta commented, getting off his chair and making his way towards the baking room.

"Peeta –"

He slammed the door, now frustrated than worried now. He snatched the sack of flour out from the floor, slashed the fabric open and poured the flour into the bowl hastily. As he baked, he vigorously stirred the yeast, sugar and salt, pounded the dough on the mat with his fists and shoved it in the oven.

His anger was aimed at his mother, the Capitol, his inward brothers, his father, and Katniss for some wild reason.

She hardly saw him. He'd stare at her for ages at a time, getting the courage to talk to her. He'd convince himself to the night before, saying, "If you don't do it now, Mellark, she'll go off with Gale."

But every day, whenever she walked right past him, she had never looked at him like he did for her. Not one single blink. In a way, she had hurt him every day, and he'd always come back for more.

The worst thing was that she never knew.

He couldn't let his father's experience occur again in his own life. He had to do something. Something extremely brave or miraculous that would blow Gale out of the water.

Then it had hit him right in the face.

_The reaping. _

_He could volunteer._ He has nothing here in District 12. What is there to lose?


	3. Chapter 3

**By the way, guys, this is set without Heroes of Olympus. :)**

Chapter 3

**ANNABETH**

"Where is it?" Percy asked.

They were out, searching for the hidden glow. Annabeth was glad all her friends were there: Clarisse, Grover, Jake, Will, Katie, Travis, Connor and Chiron were walking on by their side. It felt great, almost like going to a more joyful war.

She could tell Chiron was still pretty annoyed with them. He'd kept crossing his eyebrows and huffing in a horsey tone, like he did in rare occasions. He was out of his wheel-chair, which made Annabeth smile. She hated to see him all restricted in that chair, and to see him galloping at a steady pace beside her made her think of all the days she felt wild and free.

Not that she liked seeing Chiron's arse, though.

"I think it's here somewhere," Jake answered, turning right and crouching. He whispered, "Lay low and be quiet. Ol' Goldie is here somewhere."

They all obeyed (except from Chiron, who shook Percy's hand and gave Annabeth a hug before leaving), following Jake's lead. Percy grabbed Annabeth's hand protectively, making her feel stupidly independent; who did he think he was, trying to protect her when she was fully able to manage herself?

Then again, he would never have held her hand without hesitating or blushing last summer.

Before she could think any further, a flame burst in the air, setting some leaves and trees ablaze. Grover winced as all of them froze, looking at the direction of where the fire came from.

Annabeth's eyes widened as Percy's grip tightened. It was the golden dragon that that she, Percy, Silena and Beckendorf encountered on that Capture the Flag game. It had a perfect mix of gold and bronze, reminding Annabeth of a giant-sized eagle. It had razor-sharp teeth that could drill through steel almost as easy as punching holes in paper.

"Oh, so _now _we find him!" scowled Katie in a hushed voice.

"Tell me about it," Jake said, rolling his eyes.

A tree creaked, and out of the corner of Annabeth's eye she saw it start to topple down. "Look out!" she shouted, pulling the back of Percy's orange t-shirt towards her. The log crashed just where he was moments before, and the two sighed a breath of relief.

"Thanks," he said as he got up, daring not to let go of her hand. He sheathed out his sword as she got out her dagger.

"It's okay," she said, spotting the glow from at least a hundred yards away north from where they stood. She wriggled her hand out from his death grasp. "There it is."

"You two go," Clarisse said, gripping her electrical spear tightly. "We'll hold them off."

"The future can wait," Annabeth said, looking at the dragon who stared back at her with red ruby eyes.

"No, Annabeth," Travis said. "Both of you, go."

She raised her eyebrows. Travis nor Connor acted this serious since –

She hesitated, looking at her friends and the dragon. "Fine, but make sure you contact everyone else to help you."

"We will," Katie said, her eyes filling up with tears. Thankfully she held them back as all of them hugged Percy and Annabeth.

"Bye, guys," Percy said, starting to run. "Stay safe!"

"I'll miss you. Have a nice summer," she said, nearly bursting in tears herself as she ran after her boyfriend.

As they reached the rather mysterious glow, she looked back as Clarisse managed to get to its neck to strike her spear through its scaly neck. Katie was growing long leaves of holly up its legs, forcing it to tumble down. Connor and Travis sprinted towards it's ruby eyes, attempting to pull them out with a crowbar (though Annabeth had no clue how they got the crowbar in the first place) and Jake was trying to disable it's attacking mode.

She smiled, a wiping a tear off her cheek. This could be the last time she ever saw them in all their glory.

"C'mon, Annabeth," Percy said, grinning, holding her hand. "Let's go."

"For Athena," she said, kissing him on the lips.

"For Poseidon." And after that, they stepped in.

***...*...***

She was suddenly standing in some weird type of town square. The floor was sandy and dusty, almost like salt plain. A stage was outside an old stone building, with a large screen and cameras everywhere, which was quite off-putting. The waves were crashing right next to her, making her think of Percy.

_Percy!_

It was then when she noticed starved people staring at her, bewildered, which made her look at herself. They were wearing 50's style clothes, which was strange, since it was the future. _What if it malfunctioned? _Annabeth thought.

A girl, about twelve, raised her eyebrows. "What are you doing?" she whispered scornfully.

"Me? I'm just here –"

"Get in line!" she bossed, pointing her thin finger at the very front of the orderly crowd.

"Why are you in line? Is this some commotion?"

"_Commotion? _It's the reaping!"

Annabeth thought that the future must be crazy, since the Grim Reaper wasn't real. But she headed towards the front, still searching for her Percy Jackson.

A small, plump man sat near the back of the stage, looking grim like everyone else. He had a hazel beard although his hair was grey, which made her have a picture of Grissom from CSI pop into her mind.

She shuddered as she saw a man with freakishly long nails and blue hair like one of those toy trolls. He had little sequins and starfishes stuck in his hair, and a goofy smile which was unbelieveably more goofier than Percy's.

"Welcome, welcome, District 4!" he said.

_District 4? _

As she slipped in a couple of rows back from the front, her eyes darted towards the right of the crowd. There was a small pathway cutting the girls off the boys, with guards with white uniforms standing with no pride whatsoever on their faces. She looked among the boys. A lot of them where tall and skinny, with tanned skin and sea-green eyes.

_Crap! _How is she going to find him now?

She let out a sigh of relief as she spotted him staring at her, looking almost as confused as she was. He mouthed, _District 4? _

She shrugged in reply, focusing back on the man. "District 4, let's hear it for your Mayor Quince!"

Annabeth stifled a giggle as he was the only one applauding. The fat man that was sitting down a minute before was walking towards the microphone as the weird man sat down onto his seat. He looked nervous, considering that all these people where his subjects. It was disgusting; Annabeth could see that he sweated under his armpits, even though he was just standing.

He collected himself and said, "As some of you may know, Panem used to be part of North America."

She looked back at an even more befuddled Percy for reassurance. _Panem?_

"Through all the storms, the fires, the dreadful droughts and the courageous sea, Panem was all that was left. "

So was Camp Half-Blood demolished? Or was it still alive? Her thoughts were filled with worries, mostly about Chiron. Has the Western Civilisation moved on to a different place? She assured herself that it would, but she was frustrated about not being sure.

_Dear gods_, she prayed. _Please can you make sense of what's happening? Seriously, Mom, I need help. I'll give you extra beef in my offerings when I have the chance, I promise._

"After a period of peace and harmony, our ancestors organized an uprising against the Capitol. Twelve districts where defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. It was then, exactly 74 years ago, the Capitol had created the Hunger Games.

"So in payment for indeed, the darkest years of Panem, 2 tributes from each district – one girl and one boy – must be picked for the Hunger Games. All 24 of them will be transported towards an anonymous yet vast arena. Over several of gradual weeks, they must fight to the death until one lone victor remains."

_Well, _Annabeth thought. _This is _way _more different than fighting _empousai _all the time._

He hesitantly went back to his seat, everyone silent. So quiet, in fact, that Annabeth was glad she hadn't took her friends; Connor and Travis, no doubt, would shout, "Awkward!" if they were here.

The guy with the sea-themed hair came up to the microphone, and smiled darkly. "Time to pick our tributes." Everyone held their breath, looking at each other and holding each other's hands.

One girl next to Annabeth grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly. Her face was pale, and she was obviously small but strong for her age. Annabeth looked at her with her gray eyes, and nodded in reassurance. She didn't know who the hell this girl was, but for some reason she didn't want anything to happen to her, to anyone.

"Monica Harper," he announced.

The girl next to Annabeth let go of her hand, looked at her with sober eyes, and made her way to the stage, or to her death.

"Hey!" Annabeth shouted, everyone eyeing her. She ran into the pathway, sandy smoke coming up, the guards in white gripping her arms.

"Come on, come along," the man continued as the girl stopped in her tracks on the stairs.

"Listen, Octopus-Face!" she yelled, getting his attention. "Can I take her place?"

"Not with that attitude," he scowled.

"Oh, for gods sake," she sighed, shaking off the guard's grip and marching towards the stairs. "Is this really how you treat your citizens? Seriously? I mean, can I or can I _not _take her place?"

"Yes, you can, but I haven't even asked the question yet –"

"Lion Crystal," a lady's trembling voice said coming from behind her. She turned, and she saw an old woman, in her eighties at least, coming steadily towards the steps. She had a hunched-over back, and a stick clumping the ground. Her aqua-blue top looked a bit too small for her, but Annabeth smiled anyway. "Of course she can take her place."

She respectfully ordered the girl to go stand back where she was, and she obeyed. "Thank you," she said to Annabeth as she took a step back to let her pass. "You are very polite." She then focused on the man, who supposedly was Lion Crystal. "How dare you insult this young lady? She had just volunteered, very much like me 67 years ago!"

"I'm sorry, Mags –"

"Just carry on with your, er, reaping then," she said calmly – which was weird, considering she was shouting at him moments before – sitting down at the empty seat next to the Mayor, mumbling to herself.

Annabeth walked towards Lion. "What's your name?" he said, his face red with embarrassment.

She took in a breath. "Annabeth Chase."

"Did you know Monica before the reaping?" he asked in an annoying voice.

"No."

"Did you volunteer for the honour?"

"This is an _honour_?" she said, confused. She thought that this was something horrifically terrifying.

Lion Crystal ignored her, and said, "Time for the boys!"

She looked at Percy, who was ready for volunteering himself. She knew he would, a) because it was just in his blood to do so and b) it was in Lou's dream, after all, and they weren't in a forest yet, therefore shouldn't be separated beforehand.

He got out a slip, opened it, and he read, "Perseus Jackson."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews and whoever favourited this story! You're amazing! **

**I'm sorry if this is a bit too melodramatic – I promise the next one will lighten the mood up a little! Also, this might be a bit unlike Peeta, so sorry if it is. Please review and say if I need to improve in anything! Thank you!**

Chapter Four

**PEETA**

"Primrose Everdeen."

After Effie Trinket said those words, Peeta was shocked. This was Katniss's little sister, who everybody loved, even his father. He remembered seeing her as a baby with short blonde curls in the Hob with Mrs Everdeen and Katniss, and watching her cry.

And now little Primrose was reaped.

He saw her face, all shaken and ghostly pale. She slowly made her way towards the stage, her blouse slightly out of place, forming a duck-tail.

"Prim!" Katniss shouted, girls making way for her as she ran towards her sister. "Prim!"

She pushed Prim behind. "I volunteer!" she screamed. "I volunteer as tribute!"

***…*…***

He was a child again, holding his father's warm hand. It was nice to stand next to him, for a change, and not his cruel and stressed mother.

"See that little girl?" his father said, nodding towards a pretty girl who was running around with another, laughing, her two hazel plaits flowing behind her as she ran.

"Yes," he answered.

"I wanted to marry her mother once," he said as Peeta's small hands gripped his father's beefy ones, "but she ran off with a coal miner."

"A coal miner?" he said, confused. He examined the girl, whose eyes were now glistening, as she had just fallen. He presumed it was her mother that picked her up, while baby with light blond curls giggling while standing, holding onto the woman's leg for support. "Why did she want a coal miner when she could've had you?"

"Because when he sings," his father said shakily, inhaling a big breath, "even the birds stop the listen."

***…*…***

He watched as Katniss, now sixteen, walking up the stairs, desperately trying to hold in her emotions. He could hear Prim's cries as Gale carried her away, but his eyes were fixed on her.

Effie makes an unnecessarily cheerful comment, and then gets to the point: "What's your name?"

Katniss swallows hard. "Katniss Everdeen."

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?" she waits for a cheer that would never ever come, like she always did in all the other reapings. "Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

Peeta then immediately kissed his three fingers and put them in the air, some others following his lead. Then more. Gradually, everyone, including the people who bet on them, did the same.

He could see Katniss's gray eyes starting to tear up, but she managed to keep it in.

Right on cue, the drunken Haymitch came to the stage, staggering, clearly drunk. His black, curly hair is greasy, his Seam eyes, like Katniss's but more piercing, scans through the crowd and yelled something Peeta couldn't make out at the camera, then dived, head first, into the crowd.

_Well_, Peeta thought. _The love of my life had just volunteered. District 12's mentor is drunk, who's supposedly going to save District 12's tributes' life in the arena. And I'm volunteering! Oh, what a lovely day it is!_

Effie then trots towards the boy's bowl of slips, making Peeta's muscles tense up, even though he was the one going anyway. "…but more excitement to come!" she trills, her hand diving into the glass bowl.

All the boys were glaring at her hand, as Effie examined all the slips. She plucks out one.

He suddenly wished that it's Gale. _Gale, Gale, Gale_. He could protect Katniss extremely well. What was Peeta thinking? How could he, the baker's son, kill people?

_Gale, Gale, Gale. _

_Gale Hawthorne_, she said, in his mind. It's him, it's him! He did his victory dance, right there on the spot. He threw flowers at both of District 12's heartthrobs, as they passionately kiss on stage.

_It's Gale!_ he paraded.

"Peeta Mellark," Effie said.

Really, he should've seen it coming. His father being unusually conscious about him and his brother, the odds having a slight chance of being in his favor, and above all, the illusion of Gale being picked. It was obvious.

Yet he thought that the world was wrong. It couldn't have been him. It shouldn't. He only had 2 slips, in that bowl, right?

A boy nudged him, making him move. Peeta nodded gratefully as he began to make his way to the stage. _So this is how it feels like_, he thought, thinking about Prim's frightened face when Effie announced her name. He then felt guilty. What was he doing, feeling sorry for himself? He tried to imagine how it would be like being picked only being 12 years old.

Effie glanced at her watch and looked at Peeta expectedly, tapping it, but he didn't care. The Capitol can wait. They'd have plenty of time seeing him die.

He finally was on stage, looking at Katniss. He saw recognition in her eyes, probably thinking about the raining day he gave her the burnt bread. But she'll always thinking of me as the boy with the bread, nothing more, nothing less.

He shook her cold hands. _She _will _win_.

***…*…***

He sat on the plush red couch, thinking about his father and his brothers while staring at his hands clenched together. His mother was probably dancing around all of District 12, singing, "Peeta's going to die! Whipee!"

The whole place was so rich and lush. Red carpets, chandeliers, fancy paintings of the bombing of District 13, the works. Peeta felt angry that there were people starving here, and that Mayor Undersee spends all his money on his precious Justice Building instead of his subjects.

He shook the thought off as he saw his brothers. They just awkwardly stood there, looking at him for what seemed like ages, Peeta doing the same. Weren't they going to do a sober goodbye hug or something?

Then someone piped up. "Good luck," said the oldest, patting him on the back. "You'll need it."

"Great way to cheer me on," he replied sarcastically, making his brothers crack a smile. They shook hands tightly, all trying to smile.

When they left, he could've sworn he saw them wiping a tear. _At least two people care about me, _he thought, looking at the door in a daze. That was the last time he was going to see them.

Then his father charged through, giving him a huge warm hug. He sobbed on Peeta's shoulders, surprising him. His father never cried, at least in front of him, anyway. Then Peeta began to cry, too, on his beefy shoulders.

"I love you, son," he said gruffly, breaking away from their embrace. "Don't you ever forget that."

"Love you too," he managed to say, as they gripped each other's arm. Then the thought of Katniss's cold hands came into his mind, as he added, "Give Katniss's family –"

"I will," he said, nodding. Then he understood why he said it, fear coming into his mind. "Don't you dare try and protect someone else, Peeta. Protect yourself, okay? You'll come back, you hear me? Make some paint and camouflage yourself, just like you do with cakes, but lose the intricate patterns, they'll spot you for that. Peeta, listen to me, if you try hard enough –"

"I won't be coming back. Katniss –"

"I don't care, Peeta!" he yelled painfully. "Try hard, for your family."

"I'll make you proud somehow, I'll promise," he said, tearing up.

"You already have, son," his father whispered, a stream of flowing freely down his cheeks. Peeta spotted the Peacekeepers waiting for his father, and it was then when Peeta started to cry quietly, his father pleading, "He's sixteen, he's sixteen!" as they took him away.

They slammed shut the door, Peeta banging on it as he cried. He thought this goodbye thing was going to be a lot straight forward, with just a 'bye'. But now, as he slumped down on the floor, his head in his hands, he kept on thinking that he was never going to see District 12's sunset setting in the meadow, his brother's quiet yet caring ways, his father's smile, the warm fire coming from the oven, the birds chirping, everything. Every single thing he cared about was taken away by the Capitol.

Except from Katniss.

He stood back up, his sadness now replaced by rage. How could they do this to 24 children each year? He wondered if President Snow felt guilty, for all the innocent kids he'd killed, and all the families' mourning. This was inhumane, savage, brutal, and extremely heartless. This was worse than he imagined.

To fit with his rage, his mother paraded in. "Well done, Pea-Brain," she teased. "You've made your mother finally proud."

"You're not my mother," he said.

She laughed wickedly. "If we had the time, I'd tell you millions of reasons why I shouldn't be your mother. But, darling, five minutes isn't a long time, so let's get down to business."

He was befuddled. How could his father, the most gentle, subtle and genuine man he ever known, marry such a cruel woman like her?

She grabbed Peeta's wrist in a painful grasp, and dragged him towards the red sofa. They both sat down, his mother still beaming. "You're a hopeless little boy, you know that. But if you and Katniss are smart enough, District 12 might win this year."

He smiled, thinking that this was the nicest thing she'd ever said. Every day would start with Peeta doing the slightest thing wrong, and a rolling pin smashed into his cheeks. Now suddenly she was supporting him, saying he'll win. Has his mother changed? Does she love –

"Get out," he said distastefully, pushing her to the floor. "GET OUT!"

***...*...***

In the train, he feels sick, and Katniss does too. No wonder, with all the soups, fruits and chocolate cake they've eaten. It was too rich for Peeta's taste, too over the top. He wondered how the Capitol could eat those things every day, and if they ever had simple bread to eat.

They sat down on one of the luxurious chairs that were placed in front of the television, Effie intently goggling her eyes at it, probably wondering if he wig looked alright for all of Panem to see. Katniss looked distressed, clearly thinking about her sister and mother. Peeta presumed Haymitch was throwing up in the bathroom, or drinking some more alcohol.

The programme came on, making Effie jump out of her skin. Peeta tried hard not to laugh. He looked at Katniss to see if she was smiling, but she was looking as almost as intent as Effie was a moment ago.

A girl from District 1, Glimmer, stood out. Volunteering, she practically glided towards the stage in her daffodil-yellow dress, he golden hair flowing behind her and smiling perfectly. The boy in a pink casino-like tux grinned cheekily as his name got read out, and when they shook hands, he seemed to know her well enough to do a special handshake.

District 2's girl was small but looked vicious, and she dressed in a stained dress. She kept on smirking at Cato, the boy tribute, who gave one back. They seemed to know each other well, too, which made Peeta feel even more nervous. Was he supposed to be close friends with Katniss?

He kept on thinking about how he was going to die in the bloodbath by one of the massive bulky guys that was twice his size, maybe even have his neck broken by one of them like pulling a cork from a wine bottle.

District 4's reaping was the one that stood out the most. There was a girl with blonde curly hair tied loosely in a ponytail and a boy with sea-green eyes that appeared with green smoke at the back of the crowd, looking out of place. They were wearing strange shoes and an orange top, which was weird.

He could hear conversation and shrieks from the crowd of 12-13 year olds. They eventually found their way towards the front, befuddled, and Peeta decided they were either aliens or had amnesia.

"The green smoke was probably an entrance for them both," Effie commented.

The girl volunteered, but she obviously didn't know what the whole 'Hunger Games' shebang was, calling the escort 'octopus-face'. He smiled at her courage. She was going to get killed by President Snow somehow for name-calling on live television or something, he just knew it. He heard that she was called Annabeth Chase, and he had to remember it; she was someone who could kill anyone like breaking a twig, he could tell.

Although the boy got picked like everyone else, he and Annabeth looked shocked. Luckily they were silent as they shook hands, making the atmosphere awkward and confused. The boy smiled at her reassuringly and she replied with crossing her eyebrows, concerned, and Peeta was sure they were more than just friends.

Some of the rest stuck out. A girl with slick ginger hair from District 5, who was quiet and emotionless. A huge muscular boy with dark skin from District 11, and Katniss stifled a gasp when the young 12-year-old girl was picked, who had a resemblance of the boy but was small and bony, no doubt flexible. Her name was Rue.


	5. Chapter 5

**Haaayyy! How you doin'?**

**I'm sorry if I take a long time to do my chapters. The main reason is because I want to do a good job of each chapter before posting it, and that I want to be sure that I'm happy at my work. So yeah, sorry for those of you who is just waiting. :P**

**Thanks for all of you who favoured, story alerted or even favoured me as an author! You're amazing! Like, amazingly amazing that you're even more amazing than the word 'awesome', which, as you can tell, is a pretty damn hard word to beat in my point of view.**

**Gah, what am I doing? I shouldn't be saying unnecessarily random comments to stop you reading my story! Gods, have I got nerve!**

**Anyways. Enjoy! **

Chapter Five

**ANNABETH**

She looked at Percy, stunned. Although his face looked cute when he was worried, her nerves dropped from being fantastically confident to trembling. How could this happen to Percy?

"Are you okay?" she said finally, urgently giving him a hug.

"I don't know how –"

"Me too, Seaweed Brain," she said, breaking away from their embrace. She tried to smile reassuringly, but she failed. She didn't know how Percy could do it to her on a regular basis – she knew he was brilliant at sword fighting but this smiling thing was just pure skill. "I'm worried about you."

He opened his mouth to say something, but a guard guy barged in. "Have you got anyone to see? We couldn't trace anyone from your families."

"Oh," she said in a high-pitched tone, surprising herself. "Umm, both our parents died in a boat accident a couple of months back."

"Are you sure? I haven't heard, um, about any recent boat crashes –" he stuttered.

"You haven't heard?" Percy played along. "It was tragic. _Big _memorial."

"Don't you hear about gossip? Seriously," she sighed.

Percy suppressed a smile, making Annabeth glad; at least he was enjoying himself, messing with the guard. "But don't worry, we won't sue you."

"Yeah," she agreed. "We can say bye to each other, see?" She turned towards Percy, holding back a giggle. "Bye. I'll miss you!"

"Miss you too, darling," he grinned, over-dramatically hugging her. "Goodbye!"

The guard uncomfortably shifted. "Well, err, I'll tell your escort that you're ready." And he went out of the room, leaving Annabeth and Percy cracking up.

She looked at Percy, who was still laughing. His laugh was the most beautiful sound she ever heard, but she was starting to worry he'll wet his pants or something. He stopped, and saw her beaming. Smiling, he made his way towards the toilet, which made Annabeth have yet another laugh attack.

"Percy!" she scowled jokingly, and he could hear him giving a slight chuckle as he closed the door. "You've wet yourself?"

"Not yet!" he called as her head shook at his humour.

Her gray eyes searched the room. It was fancy and almost like a Victorian beach hut, if that could make sense. Two fancy purple couches lay on a matching rug, and between them was a pale wooden coffee table. _As if someone's going to have coffee in here, _she thought.

Some cheesy, rusty _Goodbye Seaside! _signs hung on the red wall that had white stripes, which made her think of the time when she went to the fireworks with Percy, and how magical it was. He was telling her about Grover's acorn charm thing, Zoe's quarrel with Thalia and how Nico truly was like when he was ten, repetitively making her laugh.

A picture was placed on the windowsill in the corner of the room, almost calling her to take a look. She picked up the photo, and silently gasped as soon as she saw what it was.

It was a worn out photo of her friends back at Camp Half-Blood, beaming and having an arm ringed around each other's necks. It seemed a long time ago, since Beckendorf, Selena, Michael Yew and Lee Fletcher was there, too. She spotted Percy in his younger years (which made her laugh, as he looked so different), his arm around Grover, who had hands full with tin cans. The confusing thing was that she wasn't there.

Then it occurred to her that she must've took the photo, but that still didn't make sense. How could they have gotten that picture? It was tucked in a see-through pocket in her wallet.

"Percy, come look at this," she said as he was zipping up his fly.

He looked at it while resting his chin on her shoulder. "You've had it for all these years?"

"I didn't have it framed, though. It was in my wallet." She craned her head to see his reaction, and he raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't make sense," he said, his head full of thoughts. "C'mon, Wise-Girl, let's see if we're going to go somewhere."

She grabbed the photo while no one was looking, and followed Percy outside. _This isn't stealing, right? _she reassured herself. _This is just retrieving something that used to belong to you, isn't it?_

They went through the back door, finding a crowd full of paparazzi snapping pictures at them while they were trying to get through to a high-tech train. Until now, Annabeth wanted to know how it was like to walk on the red carpet. Now she couldn't bear the thought of being Angelina Jolie.

As they staggered through the paparazzi, she just about heard Percy yell, "YOLO!" his fist in the air.

The doors closed as soon as they entered. Annabeth wheezed, her tongue coming out from her mouth like a dog asking for a bone. Percy smiled, but he seemed out of breath, too.

"Damn you, paparazzi," was all she could come out with, her hands leaning on her knees.

"I know, right?" said a voice that was vaguely familiar. She turned to see who it was, and her nose flared as soon as she saw Lion Crystal's wacky hair. "Hate them, but District 4 always does have the most publicity. Most of our tributes are quite the showmen, compared to the others."

Before she had the chance to punch him in the face, the old lady trotted in. "Why are you lot in here? It's a narrow compartment, shuffle along!" As they walked towards an automatic door, she kept on mumbling to herself. It was mildly distracting, if not a little annoying.

The whole place seemed too futuristic. Blue, glowing chandeliers hung from the ceiling that had sea creatures painted on it (probably for Lion's sake). To the right, was a sort of bar-dining table with smart chairs that would've looked stupid in a pub, but fancy in a place like this. She ran her hands along the table, feeling a soft, smooth surface. That's weird. She could've swore that was the material of laminate countertops. She could see her face in the reflection.

Lion got out a rectangular misshapen piece of technology out from his coat's pocket. "What's that?" Annabeth asked, her ADHD getting the best of her.

"Oh, a Grape," he said, surprised they didn't know what it was.

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm talking about what you've got in your hand."

"Don't you know? The series of technology?" He waited expectantly, but received blank expressions. "First there was Apple, then Pear, then Plum, then Grape!" He laughed, making Annabeth's blood boil. People laughing at her and coming to a sudden conclusion that she was a complete dumb-ass was one of her pet hates.

She just wanted to blurt out, _Well, I'm from the 21__st__ century and was there when the Apple iPhone 4 was first out, sooo..._

"Sorry, but how do you sleep with your hair?" Percy commented after moments of silence. "I mean, won't your head hang out of the covers or something?"

"Probably has a double bed or a special longer-in-length one," Annabeth assumed, giving a smug smile.

Lion seemed offended by that comment, as his eyebrows crossed and his lips pouted. "Go and get changed for dinner. You may want to wash up – you two smell like you've been in District 12's sewers. Dress up nicely, though, the Hunger Games doesn't have time for slouches. Be here in two hours." And he sped out of the door at the end of the compartment that had a long sort of hotel hallway, presumably down to the far end of the train where his office was.

The old woman sighed. "Lion Crystal. Always was liked this. Frustrated for no one for no reason. Finnick told me he took a liking to him, don't ask why." She mumbled things like this to them continually, making Annabeth feel more and more tired. It was as if her voice was a screaming siren.

Before she literally fell asleep right there, on the spot, she dragged Percy out of the conversation and down to where Lion exited. She peeped through each door, but they seemed like they were either the old lady's reserved room, Lion's 2nd office, the driver's personal space (which was trashed with things Annabeth didn't even want to know), Lion's 3rd office or Hercule Poirot's crime scene.

Eventually she found hers and Percy's. Of course, there was an orange wall cutting the rooms, but there still was an archway to enter each other's freely. Annabeth thought of all the other 'tributes', they said, that stayed in this very place, and how many never got the ride back.

Then she hoped they had new bedding.

There was a window as wide as the Strategy Bookshelf in the Athena cabin, which was massive compared all the normal sized ones. Delicate patterns were etched on the curtains. She felt them with her finger tips, and it was so soft and smooth, she recognized it was the same material as the table she felt before. She realized it was cotton linen. Then it made sense – if anyone set fire to the whole place for a desperate need to escape the arena, they couldn't. Cotton linen was indeed, fireproof.

The floor, the bedding, and somehow, the walls – were all cotton linen, too. "Wow," she said. "There really is no escape from here."

"I guess you could make a run for it when the paparazzis attack –"

"Percy!" she scowled. "This is people's lives, you know! Lion said this is the _74__th__ time _the Hunger Games had been happening. That means... that means 146 kids slept in this room, half of them probably dead, Percy."

He stayed silent.

Alright, now was her time to do her no-time-for-joking speech. "Percy, this is serious. Yeah, we might've come out from the Underworld alive in some occasions, and yes, we had a couple of painful stabs in some... crucial... places," she said, placing her hand on her belly; she still had the scar. "But, Percy, don't you see why this is so dangerous?"

He then wore an expression telling Annabeth that the news just smacked him in the face. "Oh."

"Only one person comes out in this," she murmured, having a sudden interest in her muddy sneakers. "No Grover to be our protector. No Chiron to support us. No Will Solace to bandage our wounds. And there is an extremely big chance that both of us won't be coming back."

In an instant, she broke down. She made a bee-line to the other room, deciding it would be better to be alone. Percy didn't run after her, which she was grateful for; she hated him seeing her like this, all weak and vulnerable. She wanted him to see the clever, bubbly and strong person she was, not... _this._

While wiping her tears, she made her way to the shower. After all, it might calm and soothe her emotional state, and besides, you can't cry in the shower.

It was one thing when she saw at least twenty buttons for just one shower. It was a completely different situation when Annabeth knew what each one meant, like the time when she had to go in the helicopter to save the screaming Rachel, and she managed to land the out-of-control flying machine. Her instinct in dangerous times were pretty accurate and handy, but now she didn't know why these intellectual intuitions came when she was just about to take a shower.

_Damn, girl, you've got skills! _she thought to herself as she pressed a massive blue button. The showerhead started to spray water that smelt of oranges, making her think of the Demeter kids growing them and cooking up a delicious orange cake.

As it poured seaweed conditioner onto her blonde hair, she kept replaying the mental breakdown scene in her head. She started to get embarrassed. What did Percy think? Did she scare him with her insightful comment about the Games? Maybe it was better if they ignored the perilous side of it and just had fun?

She pressed the blue button again, and the water stopped instantly, making her temperature drop. She rushed to her wardrobe, finding only yellow, blue and pink frilly dresses.

"You've got to be joking me," she whispered to herself. Annabeth Chase never wore stupid, little-girl frilly dresses.

Using her intuitive, she chose the blue. With difficulty, she managed to put it on, and walked all the way to the dining compartment, feeling like she could really strangle Lion for giving her such clothes.

As soon as she saw his face, she shouted, "WHAT, in the name of HADES, did you think when you put the clothes in my wardrobe?"

She then realised that the old lady and Percy was there, too, and both of them were looking at the ground, stifling a laugh. "I didn't put your clothes in the wardrobe, you stupid girl, an Avox did," he said in an obvious tone, making the others uncontrollably snort with giggles. This just made steam come out of her ears.

"Then who chose them?" she snapped.

"I did," a voice said from behind her.

**(*cough* Bad ending *cough*)**


	6. Chapter 6

**At the beginning of this chapter, I used a phrase from the HG movie. xD **

**If you haven't watched the Hunger Games movie yet, watch it! It's amazing and is really like the book! And to those of you who have, don't you think it's awesome?**

**Also, I used the same dialogue used in the chariot part from the book. So all rights to Suzanne Collins for them parts!**

**Oh, and this chapter might be a little shorter than last time, but at the end I felt it was the right place to stop.**

**Okay. Err, enjoy! **

Chapter Five

**PEETA**

"Wow," was all he could come out with as soon as he peered through the window. There it was, the Capitol, in all its glory. While rubbing his jaw, he saw wacky men and women with bizarre hair and skin, too weird for his liking. He had a feeling that he'd have to get used to this, with Caesar Flickerman and the stylists.

Oh no. The stylists! He started wondering how they were going to be like. Probably careful and considerate, with their jobs being so precise. Perhaps maybe genuine too, caring about your feelings about home and all that sober juice that Capitols love.

He looked at Katniss, who was examining the folk outside with her stunning gray Seam eyes. He obviously knew why – they were strange and extremely different from what they saw at home.

Then he started waving at them, beaming. Katniss raised an eyebrow. "Peeta, why are you waving?"

"They might have money."

She rolled her eyes with a smile. They walked towards the exit door, Effie and Haymitch behind them. "Big smiles," Effie ushered as they stepped out to the Capitol.

***...*...***

All those things he thought they were going to be was completely false. They just plucked the hairs out of his nose like they were grass, not even saying sorry when he winced. Nor did they speak to him in a curious kind of way, only asking if he could turn his head one way for his eyebrows or if he could pout his lips for lipstick.

"I hope Portia would just let us do his hair," one called Yeldi said, her voice sounding like a shriek, annoying Peeta dearly. "Look at it! So blonde, so light... we could put layers in that, make it look healthy and sexy."

"We can actually give District 12 some sponsors for once," Herald, a man with green grass-like hair and purple skin, sighed.

"Like a foreign District 1 girl can do anything on the boy," Yeldi replied, shaking her head. She had skin very much like a hare's; brown skin on the forehead and cheeks, white around the eyes and lips, and long whiskers pouting near the nose. At first it looked quite cute, but when she scowled it looked deranged.

"Alright," said a constructive woman's voice from behind. Peeta tilted his head, and he guessed it was Portia. She had surprisingly natural skin, which relieved him. At least he had someone normal on his prep team. Although the frilly pink hair, black lips and the overly-extended eyelashes killed the moment, it was a start. "Leave him alone, I will now take over. Thank you, you did a fabulous job."

He heard disappointing mumbles as they both trotted away, leaving only Portia and Peeta alone.

"Peeta, do you want to wrap yourself in a robe?" she asked, looking the lone white robe hanging on a metal bar. "We are going to talk about your look. I do not want you to get cold while we do."

As he slipped on the robe, he said, "They said you're in District 1. I thought stylists were from here?"

"They usually are. Just some exceptions are allowed." She smiled perfectly, letting Peeta know that she can look beautiful if she wanted to. He sat down and she examined him with her warm hazel eyes. "You look nervous. You do not need to be nervous around me. I'm just... Portia."

She waited for a response, but Peeta didn't know what to say. She seemed so relaxed, something Peeta wasn't all that used to. Haymitch basically built a brick wall between Peeta and Katniss, Effie was just plain busy, and well, Peeta wasn't all that joyful of the fact that he was going to die in a week's time.

She breathed in heavily. "Let's see," she said, shutting Peeta off completely, rifling through the pink file Herald had left earlier. "I've got hundreds of hair designs. I worked on them as soon as you were reaped."

"And you're happy about it?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him, her eyebrows crossed. "It's not something I am extremely pleased about. I was nearly reaped once, too, you know."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Cashmere volunteered for me, knowing that I am just one weak fabric fanatic," she said, chuckling at the apparent failure she was.

"You're not weak," he denied.

She shook his reply off. "So," she continued, holding up one picture of his head, his hair spiky and his face in a vicious expression.

"Fierceness isn't my style," he said, scrunching up his nose. He couldn't bare the thought of girls trying to touch his hair. She nodded and held up another one.

"See? Smooth and slick, going to get the girls really scream for you," she advertised. "I think this really will work with the fire costume."

He widened his eyes. "Fire?" he squeaked.

"No, no," she properly laughed, making Peeta smile a little. "It is not real fire. Me and Cinna, we designed it. It's this liquid be got by combining various of scientific chemicals to make realistic-looking flames. It won't even touch you. Even if it did, it won't hurt you."

For some reason, he trusted her. "Okay, if you say so. Err, should I put this o–"

"Yes," she said, getting up to retrieve the costume out from the closet. "No more stupid miner costumes. Just wait until they see you. Make sure you remember their gob-smacked faces, Peeta – I swear, that will motivate you all your life."

"My short life," he mumbled as he hung his robe back on the hanger.

***...*...***

As soon as he saw her, he grinned ear to ear. She looked so beautiful the whole of Panem would hold their breaths. They took their place on the chariot as Portia and Katniss's stylist, Cinna, sorted out their capes.

As soon as they backed away to begin a conversation, Katniss whispered, "What do you think? About the fire?"

He stared at the massive doors, feeling even more conscious than he was when he was butt-naked before. "I'll rip off your cape if you rip off mine," he said through gritted teeth. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden?

"Deal," she replied, wiping the sweat off her hands on the chariot. "I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle."

On the subject, he looked around. "Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this kind thing?"

"With all the alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame," she joked, making them both laugh, although it wasn't particularly funny. He mostly laughed to bring out his nervousness, not sure if Katniss was too.

The anthem began playing, blaring across the whole Capitol, especially where they were standing. Peeta assumed the music came from behind them, as he felt the sound vibrating in his rib-cage.

As soon as the enormous doors opened, an overpowering feeling of nausea came over. He wanted to be sick in a bucket right then. Because Katniss was looking the same way, he tried to hold it in for her sake. Seeing Peeta regurgitate in front of her would make her vomit on the horses.

District 1's chariot went out, and the Capitol screamed for them. They had costumes with beautiful jewels stuck on, the girl looking attractive all the way. He could see some fully grown men drooling over her.

He thought about which one of these contestants going to kill him. District 2's boy looked vicious as a lion, with his sandy hair and his blue eyes cutting right through everyone he saw. Although small, the girl looked elusive. She looked at everyone as if they were her prey, ready for any sort of attack.

District 4 was, just like the televised reaping, extremely different from everyone else. Annabeth looked down-right stunning, though – she wore sea-blue tunic and her blonde hair put up in a Greek-style hair bun. The boy, however, held a golden trident – probably to signify their legendary victor, Finnick Odair - and a tunic that had a darker shade of blue. Everyone was drooling all over them.

Before they knew it, District 11 was trotting pass them. He remembered the cute little girl –Rue. She looked so cute in the costume, though the ox-like boy looked immensely out of place. The costume was supposed to be for little ones, not for muscled giants like him.

Then Cinna came back with a lighted torch. "Here we go, then," he said a little nervous himself, setting their capes on fire. Peeta heard Portia clapping and laughing with delight, making him smile. It was a success.

Feeling more confident, they rode out. Cinna, having a final idea and shouted, "Hold hands!"

"What's he saying?" Katniss whispered. _God, she looks amazing, _he thought, looking at her gorgeous face with flames blazing around her. She looked breath-taking.

"I think he said for us to hold hands," Peeta said, taking her hand which are surprisingly cold. He looked back at Cinna, and he nodded.

Just as Portia said, the crowd's faces _were _priceless. Some shrieked, some were laughing then stopped as soon as they saw District 12's fire. But Peeta's favourites were the ones that had the same types of skin that Yeldi had; when they had their mouths shaped as an 'O', it just made Peeta laugh properly the first time that day.

This was definitely something that he would tell his children, or even grandchildren if he was lucky.

But then he shook the feeling off. He was never going to have children, now that he got himself sucked into this. He was going to die in a week's time, what was he thinking? Having _kids_? It was a dream that was impossible to reach. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded.

"Katniss! Katniss!" they cheered. He felt happy that she was going to get some sponsors. She could hunt for herself and shoot some tributes out. He hoped that Katniss wasn't going to shoot _him _out. That would just both metaphorically and literally break his heart.

As they entered the city circle, he felt something move at his part of the chariot. Has the wheels gone loose?

Katniss's grip loosened, making Peeta panic inside. He gripped her now hot hands back into his. "No, don't let go of me," he said, checking his side of the chariot. "Please. I might fall off this thing."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"I did."

She turned to see a guy in his twenties, smiling. He had bronze-coloured hair and dazzling sea-green eyes, almost resembling Percy's. He was scarily muscular in her point of view, his strong arms as if he could twist her neck in just a second. He was tall, attractive and had tanned skin – she knew in an instant that he was from District 4.

"Now," he said, his voice extremely playful, like treating her like a little kid. "Want a sugar cube?"

"Hah, no," she said sternly. "I'm not stupid, y'know."

"Sure you are." He examined her from top to bottom with his pearl-like eyes and approached the table. As he did, he smacked her arse, making her shriek.

"Finnick," Lion said disapprovingly, "not here, thank you."

"You think I want to?" he snapped as he slumped into his chair next to Percy, who was holding his anger.

"Why'd you do it, then?" Percy asked. At least he was concerned about Finnick flirting around with his girlfriend.

"Orders," Finnick answered. "So who are my tributes this year, hey Mags?"

"Well, basically we've got a Little Miss Bossy Boots," he said critically, gesturing at Annabeth, making her bawl her fists, "and here we have... I don't know who he is. Spy-ish, maybe?"

"Good tactic, but I wasn't even asking you. Mags?"

_So that's the old lady's name! _Annabeth thought. _Mags._

"They're not completely hopeless," Mags commented. "Might be winners."

Finnick looked at Annabeth. "What's her name?"

"Annabeth," she answered.

Suddenly he looked dazed, staring at the wall, probably thinking about how brilliant she looked in a ball-gown or something. Although Annabeth wasn't one who judged someone at first impressions, but at that moment she thought he was not one to be trusted, someone who hit on every single girl he saw, no matter how they looked and if they cared.

After a minute or two, he came out of his daze and continued, "Annie, huh? Pretty name."

"Ann-_a_-_beth_," Annabeth sounded out.

"Even prettier," he mocked. This made Annabeth furious, but since it was dinner, she grudgingly slipped in a chair next to Mags. Finnick turned his attention to Percy. "How 'bout you?"

"Percy Jackson," he said.

"I watched you on the screen in the Capitol. You looked pretty surprised. Why?"

"I didn't know I was going to get picked. I mean, weren't you surprised when you were?" Percy said as he poured himself some lamb stew into his bowl.

"Valid point," Lion said, his eyes looking accusingly at Finnick. This Lion guy must have really held grudges on people.

"Shut up, Roary," Finnick snapped back, making everyone crack a smile except Crystal. He just scowled by pouting his lips again and resumed eating some lamb stew.

The dress still annoyed Annabeth with great deal. She kept having to push it under the table to let it not get in her food, not that it mattered if it got ruined; she just wanted to eat her food without having fabric ending up going down in her throat.

After they all ate, they sat down on one of the luxurious, bed-like couches and waited for the reapings to be televised. This all was so much stranger than what she was used to. The fights she had with monsters weren't televised to the whole nation, and anyway, she was never on the TV before, if you count out when she was on the run with Percy and Grover on their first quest and had their wanted faces on the news.

But they hadn't planned to be on television that time, though. This was all thought out and regularly sent to the public... like American Idol.

The District 1's reaping came on. A girl with beautiful, golden hair volunteered, making Annabeth feel embarrassed. She should've said a simple 'I volunteer as tribute' instead of calling Crystal octopus-face. Glimmer, she was called, was clearly making Annabeth, and all the girls around her, jealous out of their heads. Annabeth was mostly, because Percy leaned in as soon as the cameras zoomed in on her face. The boy, Marvel, looked just as mischievous and flirtatious, but less good looking and weedy. Perhaps he was weedier under his big thick tux?

District 2's tributes were just plain brutal. The boy had countless amounts of muscles, perhaps more muscles than Clarisse. He was massive, and she pictured him sitting beside her: he'd probably be the size of her standing up when he was sitting down. And the girl was the total opposite: small and no trace of strength on her. She looked skilled and fast, though, and that's why Annabeth remembered her name: Clove.

She looked at Percy as he did the same to her. There were traces of nervousness on him, maybe vulnerability as well. District 4 was coming on in a minute, and no doubt Annabeth was going to look like an idiot who didn't know what she was doing.

Well, in all honesty, she didn't really _know_ what she was doing.

They saw both of them, appearing in green smoke. No wonder all the girls were squealing at her to get ready! She saw all the events happen in 3rd person this time: the CSI dude telling about the new country Panem and the Hunger Games, Lion Crystal reading out the girl's name ("Oh, look at my _skin_! It looks _disgusting_!" Lion squealed), Annabeth volunteering stupidly, Mags appearing late and both of their shocked faces as Percy took the stage.

The others were rather straight forward and fast going. No delays and no flirtatious grins. Just scared faces, much like the girl that Annabeth volunteered for. District 5's girl, Levana, struck out to her like a sore thumb, because of her flame red hair and distinct fox features.

The boy and the girl from 7 looked just as confused as Percy and Annabeth was. The boy had night black hair that looked as if he just rolled out of bed, a black tux with a white tie, rounded glasses, and green eyes that looked just like the colour of leaves. She couldn't identify the exact shape, but she swore there was a lightning scar on his forehead...

The girl had messy brown hair put in a bun and looked like she knew her stuff, except in this category – like Annabeth – wasn't all clear. She had a wonderful scarlet sparkly dress, which looked out of place in such a poor district.

Now the District 11 guy – wow. He looked like he could out-muscle the one from 2. He had dark skin and brown eyes that were the colour of mud. Rue, a cute little girl, had skin just like the boy's and frizzy black hair, and was small, even for a girl who was 12 years old.

In 12, Katniss – a girl with dark hair put up in beautiful braid and a velvet dress – volunteered for supposedly her sister, though she didn't look like her at all. The 'sister' had blonde hair and blue eyes, looking like one of the Zeus kids back home.

Peeta, the male tribute, had blonde hair and more calm blue eyes. Not like he wasn't calm in the actual reaping. He looked shocked, but knew-it-was-coming shocked.

She wondered if she was going to kill any of these people, or what person would kill her.

***...*...***

As soon as they stepped out of the train, a flock of people were blinding them with their cameras, right up in their faces. It did annoy Annabeth a little, but she was confused of why the District 1 and 2 tributes were so proud about being picked more than anything else. She wondered if they'd be happy about having their faces on the front pages of the future _OK! _magazine for all the wrong reasons.

Like before, all of them, especially Mags, were out of breath. After a couple of – literally – breath-taking minutes, they noticed they were in a long hallway underground. First it was like a hospital of some kind, but it ended up being something completely different.

It was preparation for a flimsy parade. _Great. _She regretted calling Lion octopus-face, now, because the stylists would give her an octopus costume. Some of the strange Capitol – Annabeth guessed – folks lead, more like dragged, her to her room. Annabeth yelled a quick goodbye to Percy, him waving back and looking slightly taken aback.

The pushed her on the bed and started to strip her clothes off. No matter how many times she rebelled, they somehow got to see her, from top to bottom, naked. They got some tweezers out, started to pluck some hairs but looked at her eyebrows, befuddled.

"You've already plucked your eyebrows?" one of them with red flamed-styled hair and golden skin asked.

"Yes," she answered, still irritated that they saw her with no clothes on. "If you're only bothered about my face, why don't you, erm, let me put a robe on or something?"

"Aw, sweetheart," one man with a lion mane type of hairstyle, said sweetly. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't feel self-conscious. I'm Proyero."

"Nice meeting you," she said sarcastically, but they didn't seem to notice. Before she could restrain and use the excuse of her getting cold, Proyero got some leg razors while the other – Prinkie - got out some burning white liquid, set it below her nose, let it set for a minute and yanked it off. Annabeth yelped, but Prinkie just smiled as she started to paint her nails a dark shade of blue.

"Congo's doing the make-up and the hair," Proyero instructed everyone else.

"Congo? Isn't that a country in Africa?" Annabeth asked.

One called Eldie, who had ears and eyebrows just like an elf's, weirdly raised her eyebrows. "Africa? Is that a type of computer or something?"

Has _Africa _been buried under the sea, too, now? What about all those holidays to Egypt her father promised to book for the two of them, or all those expeditions Annabeth was going to do in her job as an architect?

Oh yeah, that's right. Her father was _dead, _and all her dreams were crushed because of this dumb Hunger Games.

Then a man with dark hazel skin, golden eyes and army-shaved blonde hair strolled in, making the room fall silent. He looked like a dangerous army general, with his black leather jacket and combat camouflaged trackies. Even Annabeth kept herself from arguing about the Congo, he was that controlling. He said in his incredibly low voice, "Good job, everyone. Now have your break."

As they fled out of the room, she began to feel worried. Why else would they feel so keen on getting out of the room? But then Congo smiled, making her a little bit more relaxed. That didn't mean she wasn't on guard in case he body slammed on top of her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. No one, since the reaping, asked her that. She was grateful for it, as she didn't even know what she was feeling. "I don't know, sir."

"You must feel something. Proud? Gutted? Upset? Curious?"

She thought for a minute before answering, "Confused."

He crossed his eyebrows, looking confused himself. "Well, that's a first. Why confused?"

"Umm..." Crap, why did he tell him that? Now she had no choice but to tell the truth. She sat up and looked at his deep brown eyes intently. "Listen, I'm from the 21st century, so technically I should be dead now. The reason I'm here is because I went into this green mist thing at my camp with Percy, and we just suddenly appeared back at District 4. That's why we appeared with green smoke. Now, you don't have to believe me. It sounds _completely _crazy, but it's true."

He looked at her and smiled again. "I believe you."

"Really?"

"Sure. I knew you were someone I recognized. Are you her?" He got out a photo from his leather jacket pocket and held out an old, crinkled photo of an old school photo of when she was about ten. She had braces on but still the same gray eyes and curly blonde hair.

She covered her mouth with her hand as she gasped. "Yes, it is. How did you get that?"

He winked one eye. "Chiron's desk."

"WHAT?"

"Camp Half-Blood still exists, you know. It's just under the sea. Poseidon made a little exception."

"What about Olymp –"

"Far up in the air now," he interrupted. "Son of Aphrodite, at your service."

She was lost for words. Finally, all he worries were answered. Chiron, the gods and the half-bloods were safe. She secretly promised herself, after they won this thing, they would go back to see Chiron and maybe Thalia if she was there. After this chaotic and brutal Games was finished, everything would be fine again, just like it was before.

"Annabeth, I would tell you everything about camp, but we only have little time to do so much. Now, your hair. It needs to be Greek."

"What, why?"

"Because it's you, and Chiron and everyone will be watching. They're in Panem, as well, remember."

"But it's at the bottom of the _sea,_" she said intellectually.

"They still grow and sell strawberries, you know. They sell it to District 11 to help them. The Capitol transports it. If they notice they aren't watching... let's just say things would be ugly."

"Oooo-kay," she said slowly. "So what am I wearing?"

"A fabulous blue Greek tunic."

"Of course."

***...*...***

As soon as she saw Percy, time seemed to stop. He looked so powerful, with his golden trident and his beautiful sea-green eyes. His brave face looked at her kindly, not even having to tell her that everything was going to be okay. The look in his eyes looked so encouraging she almost forgot about the pressure of returning for Chiron and Camp Half-Blood.

That reminded her. "Hey, Percy, I found out some really useful stuff from Congo."

He looked confused. "Isn't that in Africa?"

"That's what I said, but no, my stylist. He said-" she lowered her voice, "he was a son of Aphrodite. Said that Camp Half-Blood still exists, and that they'll be watching us. Now."

"Oh my gods," he said, bewildered. "Isn't New York under the sea now?"

"Yeah, but your dad protected camp, maybe doing a massive air bubble or something. Zeus moved Olympus further up in the air, so my mom and everyone else is okay."

"Well, at least we've got somewhere to move back to."

She smiled. "Guess so."

They walked towards a golden and white chariot, reminding her of the Apollo cabin. It looked so perfect, just like Michael Yew made them. She hoped Chiron and everyone was proud of both of them when they watched.

"Love you," she whispered in his ear.

"Love you too, Wise-Girl," he whispered back as he grinned goofily.

The chariot rocked backwards and forwards as soon as they stepped on it. This was clearly unstable, couldn't anyone tell? She wondered how she would've made it; obviously with a few more bolts here and there, maybe a bar behind them to keep them from tipping backwards.

"Annabeth, are you thinking about how to adjust this?" Percy asked.

"Shut up, Seaweed Brain," she replied, nudging him with her shoulder. He nearly fell off the chariot afterwards, making her laugh.

Percy listened to the horses, who were neighing and turning their heads to face Percy. "Woah, really?"

One horse nodded.

"What did he say?" Annabeth said, making the horse neigh in annoyance.

"_She,_" Percy corrected. "She said that District 12's tributes were apparently going to be set on fire for the parade."

"Isn't that going a bit too far?"

"Well, she said Cinna and Portia, their head stylists, were pretty cool," he said. "I wouldn't count them as crazy."

"I wasn't anyway."

Before he could reply, music suddenly blared from behind them, making a lot of the tributes jump, except from District 1, who was already out and waving to the people. _Show offs,_ she thought as Glimmer was smiling at them perfectly.

District 2 went out, with their tough and fierce look, then 3, who were more nervous and insecure. Annabeth hoped some people would give them sponsors, she thought they were, to help them survive, but she doubted their generosity.

Then the horses started moving, and as soon as the citizens saw a glimpse of District 4's tributes they all started to cheer so loudly . Percy stood with his trident proudly as Annabeth waved and tried to smile just like Glimmer did. Some of them started to cry like fanatics did when they saw their favourite musician, some of them swooning. But the one that shocked her most was the ones that fainted when she looked at them.

_Oh gods, _she thought to herself. _This may be a pretty disgusting Games, but I'm going to make sure I remember people fainting for her._

She looked at the screen above and saw Katniss, beaming, and surrounded by fire. The horses were right; Cinna _was_, in her books, a legend. Both tributes form 12 looked amazing. No doubt they were going to get loads of sponsors.

Percy looked like he enjoyed all the fame too. He was grinning like mad, his hand white from gripping the trident so hard. She wondered if Chiron would recognize from them being away for so long. She hoped he did.

No. She _knew _he did.

**Ha ha! It was Finnick! What did you guys think? I got the idea of putting Finnick here from anonymous awesome-sauce97! Thank you! :)**

**And sorry, Just-AWESOME-old-me, that it wasn't Snow! :P **

**OMG, I just thought! This was the longest chapter I've done so far! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**OMG. You guys are amazing! I mean, 36 reviews? Me? 36? Story? :O That's just amazing!**

**And also, this chapter is a little shorter than normal, so sorry. But it is an important chapter, and I'll try to make the next chapter longer. **

**Well, what are you waiting for! xD Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Eight

**PEETA**

It was that dream again, but this time it was even weirder.

The boy, like the morning of the reaping, was running from the zapping redheaded girl. But this time Peeta had felt twang of recognition towards the boy – where had he seen him besides his dreams? He thought it sounded a little creepy to say that his guy was in his dreams, but it subsided as soon as the horror resurfaced.

"Katniss," the boy said, exhausted, helping her off the ground after he bumped into her. "What are you doing? I thought you were picking hunting."

"I was, but I heard the something. What's –" she widened her eyes as soon as she saw the redhead coming closer.

The boy looked at what Katniss was looking at. He looked at her with worried eyes and said plainly, "The plan."

Katniss looked at him, her eyebrows crossed, figuring if she could do anything. But she turned and ran away, making Peeta want to scream, _What are you doing? Help him! Help him!_

The boy, on the other hand, just stood there, ready. It looked as if he was preparing to die or something. He gripped the sword tighter, took a deep breath and stood bravely. Peeta wanted to move and help him, but he knew he couldn't. It was as if he was glued to the ground.

The redhead was moments away from zapping him when a girl he recognized ran out of the bushes and screamed something he couldn't make out. Still, he couldn't believe it was... _her_.

_Annabeth Chase?_

***...*...***

Surprisingly, the first day of training wasn't that as bad as he thought it would be. It didn't even have any extremely difficult challenges for the Gamekeepers to assess. Didn't they have to make it hard for the tributes to prepare them for killing each other? How could they just judge the ability of someone in just one 15-minute session? What if someone was absolutely flawless in all three training days but failed in that very important session?

They could've copied Johanna's strategy, but it still could happen accidentally.

Katniss offered to go to the knotting station, since hardly anyone was there except from the District 7 people, who were in a deep conversation and didn't even raise their heads when Peeta stood in front of them.

"-at the Ministry's Ball?" said the girl, looking intensely at the boy and tying her bushy brown hair in a ponytail. Her voice sounded like she was from the Capitol or something, making Peeta confused. Wasn't she from District 7?

"I dunno," the boy replied, shrugging. "Voldemort?"

"No, it can't be. He's dead." She shook her head. "It's impossible, Harry."

The boy, who must've been Harry, noticed the other two approaching, as he ignored her statement and continued knotting his half-finished complicated snare. The girl looked up at them and quickly smiled before returning to help Harry. Peeta sat awkwardly opposite the two, Katniss following his lead, and got dragged into a conversation with an over-excited rope fanatic.

Katniss was working away, knotting a relatively big net in just half-an-hour. Peeta, on the other hand, was fussing around with his rope and unable to tie even a simple knot. He guessed it was because tying knots just wasn't a skill bakers have, so he asked Katniss if they could kindly go to the camouflage area.

It was a little strange looking at Katniss after his dream from the night before. Whenever he looked at her, he saw the horrified face and her cowardly running away. He always thought of her as this strong, athletic, beautiful and, well, _brave _girl but now he wasn't so sure.

That didn't mean his plans of protecting her (or at least attempting to) in the Games didn't change.

As soon as he picked up some paint, his memories of icing cakes at home overwhelmed him. The time at Halloween, the time when he decorated a birthday cake for Madge. He wondered how Madge was now; he knew Madge and Katniss were friends, and Peeta had talked to her from time to time when she came by to get some bread.

Why was he thinking about Madge all of a sudden? He focused on his arm, which was now painted like a rock. He didn't even concentrate.

"Woah," said someone next to him. He looked up to see a fairly-tall guy, at least 16 years old, examining his work. He had jet black hair and bright sea-green eyes, which was sort of typical for someone coming from District 4. "That's amazing."

_He suddenly had déjà vu. "Have I seen you before?" Peeta asked. The guy looked taken aback at his response. _

_"Well, if you count the reaping, then yeah," he said._

_"No, it's like... I've seen you before," Peeta said, looking more intently at the guy. Realising maybe telling someone you've met them before wasn't a good greeting, he added, "I'm Peeta Mellark."_

_"From District 12?" Peeta nodded. "Yeah, I'm Percy Jackson, from, uh... District 4."_

_He smiled encouragingly at Peeta's rocky arm. "Now seriously, how did you do that?" _

_Peeta laughed properly for the first time that day. "I just did it. My family owns a bakery back home, and I ice some of them." _

_"Oh, cool. I'm hopeless at things like this." Percy demonstrated his level of skill by dipping a paint brush in some blue paint and trying to mix it into his skin, but failed. _

_Katniss noticed Percy next to her, raising her eyebrows and focusing on Percy with her beautiful gray eyes. As soon as Percy noticed, he greeted, "Oh, hey."_

_"Hi," she replied, a little disturbed at his out-going-ness. _

_"You're Katniss, right? What you did in the reaping... that took guts."_

_"It took my guts," Katniss clarified, looking at both Peeta and Percy with a raised eyebrows._

_Percy shrugged. "I guess so. Not a lot of people volunteered." He examined their expressionless faces and added as he started to walk towards the sword-fighting station, "Hey, guys, it's going to be okay. We'll get out of this."_

_We'll get out of this? __What was that supposed to mean? Who said anything about __we__? Did he assume that they were suddenly a team for some reason?_

_But to Peeta, being allies with Percy wasn't all that bad. Although Haymitch had said nothing about forming any alliances – which wasn't frustrating, since Peeta wouldn't trust his judgement anyway – Percy seemed like someone you could trust._

_Percy approached Cato – the frightening, bulky male tribute from 2 – while he was cleanly swiping off a jelly human model's head with a steel blade, making Peeta rub his neck. He tried not to think about having his head chopped off in the arena as he resumed back to his arm painting._

_But as soon as he did, Cato boomed, "This is your last chance. Yes or no?"_

_He looked up to see Cato clenching a sword and glaring down on Percy with rage. The strange thing was that Percy didn't even look nervous. He just smiled and shook his head, beginning to laugh. Eventually, his hands were resting on his knees and crying from laughter. After he took some deep breaths, he finally answered, "No."_

_Peeta looked around to see Annabeth, smiling knowingly at Percy. It was weird to see the expression on her face, as it was so surprised and fearful in his dream. But she looked pretty now, her gray eyes scanning everyone's interested look as if hundreds of ideas and thoughts were in her mind with each person. _

_He wondered if he had that dream for a reason, but dismissed it. Dreams were __dreams__. They're not real._

_"Are you kidding?" Cato chuckled, his sword about to thrust it into Percy's stomach._

_In a flash, Percy got out a sword out from the rack, knocked Cato's out from his massive hand and into his, held one blade to his throat and the other behind his neck, Percy still goofily beaming._

_Peeta could hear the Careers snigger as Cato's face went red with rage. Before the Peacekeeper's could handle the both of them, Percy put both the weapons back on the rack and said, "Good luck, Big Guy."_

_Everyone was on the edge of their seats, waiting for something else to happen, but all Percy did was go to a different station and Cato storming towards the Careers. Some sighed in disappointment and got back to what they were doing, the others talking about what just happened. He assumed something like that rarely did happen in Training, since the Gamekeepers were appalled by their behaviour, muttering about it with a scowl._

_At least Cato wasn't excited to kill Peeta. If he was in Percy's shoes, he'd want to curl into a ball and die, right there and then. But Percy seemed to be really relaxed about it, which made Peeta resent him a little. Nothing could be worse than dying by the hand of Cato, right?_

_Then he realised._

_Percy was the boy from the dream._


	9. Chapter 9

**Just to warn you, the magical two enters the story officially. So I'm really sorry if they're a little out of character. :P**

**Oh, and by the way, Levana is Foxface. I decided to use the movie name. xD**

**Thanks for the reviews, guys! :) **

Chapter Nine

**ANNABETH**

Never had she felt so confused.

After the chariot parade, they went up in a glass elevator, which would've been thrilling, since she read all of Roald Dahl's books when she was younger, if it wasn't for the 7 other tributes cramped in it with her and Percy. They were lucky they only had to go up to four floors.

They stumbled out of the crowded elevator and she was speechless about her apparent temporary home.

The wall to the left was ocean-blue with a painted golden omega, shells stuck on around it. A long dining table placed near it. Just like the train, the massive window was the right wall, which was a mistake, since the view of the Capitol wasn't all that breath-taking and wonderful; you could see drunken rich people staggering through an alleyway. Although the elevator ride must've been long, she wished she had District 12's floor to have the amazing sight of the city.

An archway cut through the wall on the far end, a hallway in the same shape following after it with 6 doors, three on either side. A flat screen TV stuck on beside the arch, two seaweed-coloured sofas sitting in front of it.

She couldn't believe it. It was one of her designs for Olympus. It was a block of flats in case there was, although unlikely, another Titan War, and some demigods needed a place to rest.

It seemed like something she had – or used to, anyways – had been in someone else's possession. Her future, her photo, and now her designs? Although it was a little distracting having things used by someone else, she didn't blame them for taking them. It was, after all, from the past long ago, and some historian was obviously going to want it.

She wondered about the people who sold her stuff, and if any of her old friends had gotten hold of anything, maybe even kept it for memories. For example, when Chiron still had her 6th grade photo he received 6 years – no, hundreds – of years ago.

She must've had a very puzzled expression on her face, as Percy looked at her with those amazing green pearls of his and said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she acted, already feeling guilty to having to lie to her boyfriend. Forcing a smile, she thought about the time when she swore to herself never to lie to him. Now that just seemed like a joke, something that you'd go "Psch, yeah right!" to.

Percy examined her face, suspecting some lying going on. Deciding that it wasn't the best time to talk it through, he didn't reply. That didn't mean his eyes lay off her. It wouldn't have bothered her if it wasn't for the stunning sea-green eyes.

Just in time, Mags plodded out of the elevator, a slight smile on her face, Lion parading beside her. Congo was arm-in-arm with another lady who must've been Percy's stylist, and finally – in all honesty, to her disgust – Finnick walked in. He was the odd one out, as he didn't dare look at them, strolling straight past them and sitting himself down on the sofa.

"Well, aren't you hotties!" Lion squealed. Annabeth guessed they were the first ones that appealed to him for years. "The Capitol are talking all about District 4 and 12! But don't you worry, we'll get you both on the front pages on every magazine, maybe even get those fabulous robes on sale!"

"And we'll all live happily ever after," Finnick joked dreamily, looking at Lion and rolling his eyes, holding back a smile.

"Finnick, he's having a moment," Percy's stylist said. Annabeth looked at Percy questioningly, as he mouthed back, _Goldie._

Goldie. The more she thought about it, her name made sense. Her frizzy golden hair and green eyes. Her nails were painted gold. Patterns that were like vines twired around her dark skin like a tree would have, and guess what colour the vines were? Gold. It must've been here favourite colour or something.

Mags chuckled. "Remember when in your Games..." she trailed off and only Finnick seemed to understand. He laughed.

"You two were even better than we expected," Congo commented after the laughter finished. He judged by their faces that it wasn't the right thing to say, so he added, "No, I mean, your power with the audience. It was as if you were their friend and was waving 'Toodle-doo!'"

She laughed. Although she thought they never would've gotten that reaction, it seemed as if it paid off.

"You'll get millions of sponsors, the both of you," Lion said, beaming at them with pride, which was weird, since he only met them yesterday. "You're like the beauty of this year's Games!"

"Especially Annie," said Finnick while turning the TV on with his remote control, not facing them.

Annie? Who –

Oh gods, he meant _her_!

Annabeth Chase, beautiful, attractive? How was she all those things? In fact, she was the total _opposite _of that. She was the class geek, the one who nobody liked, the troublemaker who made everyone rolled their eyes at. Most of all, the reckless little girl who ran away from home.

And now the Capitol thought she was pretty?

She blushed. "Must've been some kind of mistake. What about that Glimmer girl?"

"They don't make mistakes," Finnick said, his eyes glued to the screen of some pathetic documentary about the 20th century.

_Oh my gods, _Annabeth thought as she took a seat herself. After a couple of minutes of shock, she tuned in on what the documentary had to say.

A middle-age woman dressed ridiculously in a Tudor ruff and a velvet jewelled dress, 80s styled hair and massive earphones on, came into view. Percy chuckled to himself as she was rambling on that two-thirds of the teenagers in the old United States listened to opera music in 2011. Beethoven apparently regularly sold new platinum albums until he died in 2045. Annabeth rolled her eyes when the lady said that most children died at the average age of fifteen by cowboy gun-fights.

"Are you serious?" Annabeth said to Finnick. "You believe this?"

"Nobody has says that it's not true yet, so why not?" he replied, shrugging.

"Well, it's _not_ true. We listened to music on headphones but we definitely didn't have medieval dresses like that. Hardly anyone listened to Beethoven, and in actual fact Beethoven died on March 26th, 1827!"

Lion laughed. "You said that as if you lived there!"

_Well, uh, I did! _Annabeth replied in her head.

"We learnt that in school once," Percy said. "Had a little bit of roleplay near the end of the lesson."

"Really?" Finnick said, turning his head around to face Percy. "What teacher was it?"

She wanted to shout, _'BUSTED!', _but restrained herself.

"Uh... Mrs Crampnell?"

"Oh! Wasn't she the one with the purple hair and the round glasses?" Mags rambled, her old wrinkled face enlightening, pointing at him. Then her smile dropped. "She wasn't very nice."

"Yeah, that's the one," Percy said. "Hey, I'll be in my room. I need to clear my head for a bit."

Lion looked at him with sympathy as he walked away. "Is he always like this?" he said sadly.

"Just needs time to rest his mind," Annabeth said, using her excuse. It was really her who needed to, since her mind was full of thoughts 24/7.

"Are you two close?" Finnick said, his eyes looking at her for the first time since the chariot ride, but truthfully, she didn't like his gaze. One minute he was amused and joking, the next scared and worried, like now. It didn't make any sense at all. His personality kept changing.

She hesitated. Should he know? Maybe he'd help them still keep their relationship in the sticky situation they were in, say useful tips about protecting each other. He could open up to her and tell her why he was acting so strange and perhaps the mutual hatred for each other could change.

But she decided against it. He didn't have the right to know. "No, he was in a fishing crew I worked in once."

They seemed to buy it, nodding their heads and resumed watching their inaccurate documentary. She was still a little wound up that the historians were nabbing all her stuff and weren't even having it for good use. With that, she got up from her seat to see Percy. He obviously wanted to talk with her about something; he wouldn't really excuse himself over resting his mind.

The door creaked open, revealing Percy lying down on his back on the bed, his eyes closed. "Hey, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said, surprised; she didn't expect him to do nothing. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he said, just like she did a minute ago, placing his hands behind his head.

She sat herself on the edge of the surprisingly comfortable bed. "No, Percy, tell me."

"It's just... you."

This threw her back. "What do you mean?"

"No, not just you. You, Camp Half-Blood, my dad, Thalia, the gods. It's just questions upon questions upon questions. I don't know how you can go through this every day."

She smiled. "You'll get used to it."

He gave her a sarcastic smile before he resumed, "I don't know why this Hunger Games is on. I mean, one minute we're supposed to look pretty, the next killing each other?"

"We'll win somehow," Annabeth said softly, more to convince herself more than anyone else.

"Only one person comes out here alive, Annabeth. You said before," he reasoned.

"Percy, that's not what I want to hear right now, OK?" she said, getting off from the bed.

"Okay. I told you about my problem. You tell me about yours," he said as she turned around, sitting up and meeting her eyes, smiling, knowing he caught her red-handed.

She sighed. "You are cruel, Percy, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes."

She laughed. "Alright. Well, I don't know how to put this, but I designed the whole flat."

He looked as her, dumbfounded, but then realised why there were shells and a painted omega on the wall. She wondered what exactly was going through his mind. Maybe how he could tear the whole place down, smash the window open and fly out of the place. Or how to strangle her to bits.

Instead, he said something far off her thoughts. "Is there a shower in your room?"

Annabeth sighed. Seriously? "Yeah. Yours has too, behind that bamboo door."

Percy's eyes looked at the door and raised his eyebrows. "How could – did they –"

"Designs might've been sold," Annabeth said, but doubted it. Her cabin members were far too busy with their own blueprints to even think about selling hers, and everyone else at camp were hardly ever interested. The only possibility her theory was right was if someone was so desperate for money they had to sell it to the disgusting Games, although even that sounded unlikely.

"Stolen," Percy suggested. That sounded even _more _unlikely.

She wondered how extreme one's imagination must be to create the Hunger Games. Why was it called the 'Hunger' Games, anyway? Was it because people were hungry for freedom although it could never be granted? That the creator was so hungry for torturing children? Or maybe he wanted a cheeseburger but couldn't get it, so he decided to name it after his craving?

***...*...***

She woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and surprisingly not tired. She would've thought she'd be restless with the thought of going in the all too frightening arena, or at least the nightmares about evil prophecies. Surely, if the gods really didn't shift countries in the time she and Percy disappeared, then wouldn't they have sent a signal by now?

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and found a classic Congo-style uniform hung on a chair she designed. Yes, it was really disturbing to see the whole flat – building, maybe, too, if they were desperate enough – used for _totally _the wrong intention. It was supposed to _protect _people, not _house arrest _them!

Pushing beside the frustrating thoughts, she couldn't help but smile at the soft full-body uniform Congo must've lain down on her bed last night. It was light and dark blue, with a square cloth pinned on the chest, marked '4'. While slipping it on, she wondered why she needed it.

As soon as she walked out of her room and into the dining/living room, Lion snapped, "You missed the recap of the tribute parade! You should've looked at yourselves! Stunning, absolutely stunning!"

"Sorry, but I really don't want to talk about it right now," she croaked, remembering how she declined the invitation after dinner and decided to fall asleep instead. So that's why she felt so refreshed. She took a seat next to Percy, whose eyes were bloodshot from no sleep. She sighed. Would he ever get any sleep?

"Nice you could join us," Finnick said sarcastically, receiving one of Annabeth's famous evil death glares.

"Eat quickly, please," Lion prompted. "Training starts in half-an-hour, and we need to talk about tactics."

"Which isn't your job," Mags added, making Finnick snort. She looked at him as if to say, _'This is when you leave,' _but he sat there anyway.

Finnick sighed. "Listen, you two sound like a pretty social couple, so I advise you to get one or two allies."

"What is this for, exactly?" Annabeth asked finally, picking out some bacon from a plate that was in the middle. In the first bite, flavour burst into her tongue. She never realised bacon tasted so wonderful.

"Training," Percy answered. She realised he was dressed the same clothing she was wearing, which was weird. "We train for three days, right?"

Lion nodded. "I'm sure loads of tributes will ask for you already, given the feedback the Capitol has given already. Look out for that District 12 duo, though. They might have something you're looking for."

"And don't be in the same station together," Mags said. "It'll cover more space. And anyway, are you two going to be allies?"

"Obviously," Annabeth said.

"That might not be a good idea," Finnick said. "You might be the last two in the arena. It may end up you two have to kill each other."

She hadn't thought of that. Fear swelled up in her heart. What if that happened? Well, she'd have to kill herself, easy. It was probably going to be Percy's tactic if such a drastic situation actually was going to happen, in which case she'd have to come up with an unbeatable plan.

Annabeth could tell Lion knew by their expressions that they were more than just fellow shipmates. Gratefully, he kept his mouth shut, but he gave her sorrowful looks while eating his last sausage in his full-English.

"Are you all done?" Finnick said. A girl with hazel hair, who had an expressionless face on, wordlessly took everyone's empty plates. Annabeth was about to help, getting up from her chair and grabbing her plate, but the girl shook her head and took the plate off her.

"Sure," Percy said, trying to be light-hearted. "Let's go make some buddies."

***...*...***

After the woman, Atala, explained all the stations, everyone dispersed. Annabeth decided to follow Finnick and Mag's advice, at least for before lunch, to see if it worked.

Maybe they did have a chance to succeed these Games. To go back to Camp Half-Blood and see Chiron again, even without all of her friends there. On the other hand, some of them might've had immortality offered to them like Percy and Thalia –

Thalia! She was probably alive with Artemis! How could she have forgotten? At least three of her friends were definitely alive for certain. Thousands of thoughts were racing through her mind as she approached the archery station.

As soon as she did, she cursed under her breath. Glimmer, her beautiful golden hair braided in two small plaits, was shooting arrows only inches away from a figurine. Annabeth gulped. What if Glimmer was right on target while shooting her?

Glimmer noticed her approaching, as she put her bow down. "Hello," she greeted distastefully, looking at her as if she was dirt.

_People make mistakes, _Annabeth thought. _In a couple of days, she'd be sorry she counted me out._

"Hi," Annabeth said, giving a false smile. She decided to let her social skills come in. "I like your hair."

She facepalmed herself in her mind. _You call this social skill, Annabeth? _she thought to herself.

"Thank you," Glimmer said, rolling her emerald eyes, resuming to her shooting, as she raised her bow again.

She tried again. "So you like archery?"

Glimmer shut her eyes in frustration, lowering her bow. "Yeah. I like archery. What about you?"

At least she had the decency of returning the question. "I'm good at knives, I guess."

This got her interested. "Really? At throwing them, or...?"

"Oh, no," Annabeth said, remembering back when Daedalus was Quintus, and had commented that only the most skilled and tactful fighters use knives. She smiled. "I use my brain with them."

Glimmer raised her eyebrows. "So you're smart?"

She grinned even more. "You can say that."

"Alright then," she said, flicking her golden braids behind and placing her bow and arrows back on the racks. "If you excuse me, geek-face, I have some shooting to do."

Annabeth laughed. If only the girl knew how much she'd been through, she'd be on her knees and kissing her feet. So while Glimmer walked towards the knife-throwing area, Annabeth called, "Do you have to leave so soon? I was just poisoning the tea."

She was always good at insults.

Apparently, she didn't seem to get the diss, as she craned her head around slightly and obviously had the suspicion that it was, in fact, an insult. She gave her an evil stare before she reunited with District 2's female tribute, Clove, who was ducking her head down and chuckling at, she could only guess, her offence.

Oh yeah. She forgot about Clove, the brutal-looking small girl from the reaping. Although unmistakeably skilled, she wondered if she could ever trust a girl who looked so lethal, and if she would be any use to Annabeth and Percy. Probably not, though; she'd probably slit their throats in their sleep.

But honestly, besides from Percy, she didn't really know who to trust, so she couldn't really say that Clove was the odd one out.

After she shot some arrows – which at times failed at the point that she nearly shot the instructor – she moved onto the shelter station, thinking there wouldn't be a lot of tributes there. A lot of them were so focused on the actual battle side of it; it looked unlikely someone would take the time to think about their base camp.

But it seemed someone thought of that already.

The District 7 girl who was in the dazzling dress in the reaping was working on a camouflaged shelter, only so far she gathered the leaves and was just starting on the twigs. She looked about eighteen, with bushy brown hair tied up into a high ponytail. She wondered if she was older than eighteen and her name went into the bowl of lottery by mistake. Would she get disqualified now? If she did, what would happen afterwards?

"Hey," Annabeth greeted, not wanting to think about the outcome. "Do you need help with that?"

"I'm fine, thank you," the girl said simply in a British accent.

_So there might be a small chance of the outside world still alive, _Annabeth thought.

Although she may have had not the nicest of answers, Annabeth asked, "Where do you come from?"

The girl hesitated. "District 7, remember? Didn't you watch the reap –"

"No, seriously," Annabeth said. "I mean it."

She knew, of course, that the reply was either going to be 'I already told you, Dumbo' or the answer she wanted.

"It's hard to explain," the girl said. _Yes! _"The future seems so... different... than it was before. It's all these districts and this capital – which doesn't make sense since Paris is a capital and they don't say the capital, do they? Unless you say the _capital of love_, then I understand, but they just say the capital. And anyway, this Hunger Games –"

Annabeth threw herself around the girl into a hug, either to shut her from her intellectual chatty thoughts or from relief. "I'm Annabeth from 2012."

The girl laughed. "The 90s."

The broke apart from their embrace and smiled. "Is your district partner someone you knew in the 90s?"

"Yeah. He's Harry." She pointed her thumb at the _edible insects_ station to see the guy with the strange scar on his forehead, spitting out a bug in distaste. "We've known each other for forever. What about you and Perseus?"

"Same for me," she answered, although she knew it was more than that. "I just... I just don't know what to do, you know? I mean, how are both of us going to get out of this?"

Hermione paused in thought. "I suppose you could escape the arena."

"No. There's a force field around every arena. They have to, or else everyone would've escaped in every single Games so far," Annabeth doubted.

"Then I don't know. Escape beforehand, maybe?"

She hadn't thought of that. The whole training centre was left virtually unguarded. She could've gone on anyone else's floor if she wanted to, or even go out of the building. It didn't make sense; in the reaping, there were Peacekeepers. In the train, there were Peacekeepers. Were there Peacekeepers in the Capitol, or just in the districts?

"At 8:00 tonight, I'll come up the elevator," Annabeth whispered. Hermione nodded in agreement and understanding. "Okay? We'll... we'll figure out a way. We'll save Harry and Percy, you and me if we're lucky. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Hermione said, smiling. She held out her hand and they shook hands. "Good luck in the Games."

Annabeth was about to say 'same to you', but was interrupted by a roar coming from the sword station. She turned to see Percy and Cato.

_Oh gods._

"This is your last chance," Cato boomed, glaring down at Percy, who just smiled and shook his head.

Undoubtedly, he was thinking about all the battles he'd been through. He fought Ares, Hades, Kronus, giants, Antaeus, gorgons, _kampê_... all that made Cato seem like a mouse. Without realising, Annabeth tried to stop herself from laughing along with Percy.

"No," was Percy's answer.

She looked at everyone else, to see their faces glued onto Percy's fit of giggles as if he was signing up for a death sentence. Perhaps he was. Maybe Cato wasn't as pathetic as he seemed, and because of Percy's act to humiliate he might target him in the arena. She guessed they'd have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

Cato was faking a laugh and smiled wickedly. "Are you kidding?" he said, about to lunge the sword into Percy's stomach.

Good technique, except Percy was far too skilled and quick for that. He swiftly wrapped his blade around Cato's and knocked it out of his bulky hand, and caught it into his. She grinned at his talent, as he locked his opponent into an awkward position, one sword behind his neck and the other on his throat.

Glimmer, Marvel and Clove snickered at Cato's defeat, probably thinking how ironic it was that a massive guy like him would be defeated by someone who was two thirds of his size. The Peacekeepers were about to push them apart when Percy placed both swords back on the rack.

"Good luck, Big Guy," Percy said as Atala called everyone for lunch. With a twang, Annabeth realised that this was what Percy called Tyson.

Percy walked towards her and Hermione. "So, made any allies?"

"Yeah," Annabeth replied, walking towards the exit and into the dining hall. "This is Hermione, and –" she turned towards Hermione, "– is Harry?"

"I should think so. I'll ask him," she answered. "See you two soon." She hurried towards the end of the hall, presumably to tell Harry some news.

"She seems nice," Percy commented.

"What about you? Made any friends?" Annabeth said, nudging him with her elbow.

He ignored her comment as they entered the hall. "District 12, I think. I just said I'd help them."

"So we've got 7 and 12."

They sat down on the nearest table, away from everyone else. She spotted Levana sitting by herself, eating some plain bread, looking out in the distance. District 12 was talking in hushed voices. Hermione was talking to Harry, who was deep in thought. The Careers were laughing as if the Hunger Games was just some social thing, especially Glimmer, which made her blood boil.

She was probably talking about Annabeth interrupting her precious archery.

"Okay, okay," Glimmer giggled, getting up from her chair and coming towards them. Annabeth looked at Percy, who raised an eyebrow.

Before she knew it, Glimmer leaned in to Percy and kissed him. Passionately.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Thank you for reviewing and favouriting and following! You're so amazingly awesome! :D:D**

**Sorry if this chapter wasn't in such depth about the Percy, Annabeth and Glimmer situation, but it will in Chapter 11. :)**

**By the way, feel free to review or PM me or whatever! I mean, I'm no canine or anything :P**

**Okay, on with the story!**

Chapter 10

**PEETA**

Nobody expected a wrestling match. She just lunged at Glimmer, and they knocked to the ground, rolling about. It was as if the Games had started without the gong even ringing.

"Annabeth," Percy sighed, angry with himself, as if he knew all along she was going to react like that, that she did the type of thing before. Which was weird to think about, since Peeta couldn't imagine Annabeth in a wrestling wring every day.

Actually, on second thoughts, he could. She sure did act like it, anyways.

"Get off me!" she cried as Percy hauled her off the victim, whose nose was gushing out blood. Unbelievably, she managed to wriggle her way out of his arms. She looked in an almost disappointing way at him, not knowing what to say, and noticed everyone else was looking. "Enjoy your food," she said, glaring at them all, and stormed out.

"Well, aren't you my hero?" Glimmer said mockingly, smiling seductively at Percy, if that could be possible while she was having a nosebleed.

It seemed to rub Percy the wrong way, since he followed, a little quicker, Annabeth out the door.

Atala studied the situation while some first-aiders were fixing Glimmer up. "That's enough training for today."

***...*...***

"She just... dismissed you?" Haymitch concluded, after they explained what happened in training, totally confused.

"It seems very out of character for Atala to do that," Effie said, scrunching up her nose in wonder. "I've known her for years, and this is the first time she's done it."

"Maybe she couldn't continue, with the fight that happened," Katniss said, eating a mouthful of lamb stew.

"_The fight?_" Haymitch and Effie said simultaneously, except Haymitch seemed slightly delighted, while Effie was horrified.

"Against Glimmer and –" Peeta paused while swallowing some chicken, "Annabeth Chase."

"Why?" Effie shrieked.

He didn't want to say _'Percy kissed Glimmer!'_,since it wasn't his place to say it, so he covered, "I don't know."

***...*...***

He looked out to the Capitol. Its busy crowds of people were walking in all different ways, probably to get to their homes after their work, whatever that was. He wondered if this could be the future one day. Could District 12 be as busy as the Capitol? Could people work whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, and not be forced to go down in the coal mines?

He wished he could get to sleep, but he couldn't. It was as if the Games had taken away even the gift of rest, which was highly annoying.

Then he heard the door burst open.

Peeta _could've_ said as soon as he saw her burst open the door, tears streaming down her face, he immediately comforted her into a more talkative state. Instead, what _really _happened was that he instinctively asked, "Why are you here?"

Annabeth wiped her tears. "You're so lucky you're up here, you know. The view. No cameras. Peace."

She walked over and leaned her arms against the railing. "That's still not answering my question," Peeta urged, a bit friendlier, but it didn't mean he didn't stand guard in case she was going to tackle him as well.

"I came to _talk_ to you," she said, giving a slight smile, although she'd just been crying a minute ago. He blushed; she must've noticed his grudge. "And to clear my head, too, maybe. Everyone was asleep in there, so I thought I'd be alone, but you're here."

"Sorry. Couldn't sleep," he said simply. Ever since the reaping, his head was too full of thoughts that his eyes wouldn't shut.

"Welcome to my world," Annabeth replied glumly.

Both of them stared into the distance, not daring to talk. He could see why she would want to be here; although the noise of the Capitol was deafening, even from the height of the building, it was peaceful. No Avox to come in to check to see if he was OK. No schedules. No cameras. No Hunger Games – well, at least not for a while.

"What are we going to do?" she said with a sigh.

Peeta raised an eyebrow. "You're a Career, aren't you? Didn't you train for this?"

Annabeth laughed. "If I was a Career, Peeta, why would I have been tackling down my ally?"

The thought of the two girls fighting each other stuck in his mind for hours. Peeta thought that the fight didn't really make sense, since it was just a kiss. Yes, it might've been a kiss from a pretty District 1 girl, but it wasn't like she knew Percy well or anything.

Why would she do it? Why would she even _care_? Unless she and Percy was – yes, it made sense; when she gave a sly smile at Percy in training, her shocked face when he was picked... it all finally connected up.

But he didn't _want _it to connect up.

"I'm... I'm sorry," was all he could come out with, thinking how the Peacekeepers took her away. "Are you in trouble?"

"I guess you can say that," she answered, her eyes focused on a little Capitol boy down far below. He was holding his father's hand, and he was jumping and giggling; Peeta was sure he could've heard it miles away. It was so innocent, that it brought tears to his eyes.

He was never going to have kids.

"It doesn't seem all that bad now," she said, still focused on the boy, tearing up again.

"Why?" he asked, knowing full well that would just upset her more.

"Percy's name was never in that bowl, Peeta," she said in a painful tone, not even trying to answer his question. "We lived when Obama was president, when there were no executions, when it wasn't a country about a Capitol and districts. I lived in a place when we fought for things we believed in, not just stand around and get ordered around like little pigs."

"Seems like a nice place," he said, trying to lighten the mood. All he got was a dirty look.

"Listen. They'll soon realise I've gone, so I've got to go," she said alarmingly. "Are you doing any District 12 stuff tomorrow night?"

"No. I'll be here," he said. Although she was violent, if not, suspicious, he wanted to know what made her so upset. Besides, she couldn't hurt him or anything.

Annabeth was just about to exit when Katniss opened the door, looking at Peeta questioningly. "Hi," Annabeth said awkwardly. "I was just going."

Katniss let her through, and after several moments she closed the door and walked to Peeta. "I heard someone coming. What was that about?"

"Wanted a place to calm down," he answered. He wasn't lying – just giving a half-truth.

"Oh," she said, clearly not understanding, but he didn't elaborate anyway.

***...*...***

Annabeth didn't turn up in training the next day.

Percy was, though Peeta didn't know why he even bothered; he didn't really focus on anything else other than his swords. He looked depressed and frustrated, taking his anger out from the poor rubber dummy. No doubt he'd get noticed by the Gamemakers, although they were talking and too drunk to notice any of the tributes.

It wasn't all that bad that Percy was acting this way, since Peeta could see just how useful he was as an ally. Wait, why was he thinking like this? What happened to the wimpy little boy from the bakery? The one who missed his father, the one who iced scary Halloween cakes, in result getting beaten? The one who never had the guts to tell the girl he loved his feelings? Since when was he someone who thought like a killer?

Ah yes. Since Effie said his name. Or, in fact, since his first reaping.

Despite all of the tension between everyone else and the angry District 4 tribute, Peeta decided to try and wiggle out the reason to make such a laid-back guy into... he didn't even knowwhat to call him anymore. Although Haymitch's plan was to stick with Katniss, he was sure the alcoholic would make an acceptation. Besides, it was only going to be five minutes... fingers crossed.

"Hey, Percy?" he said casually as he made his way to the sword station; that was the only station Percy would be on. "How's training?"

"Fine," he said gruffly, decapitating the dummy with one swift swipe. "What about you and you're camouflaging?"

Peeta sighed. Why did this guy have to be polite in this particular conversation? "Listen," he said, lowering his voice. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Seriously, if you could see your reflection, you'd say the same." Miraculously, he realised that what he had just said was true; his dark hair was messier than ever, his forehead and arms was sweating like crazy from all the hard (and insignificant) training he'd done, and his eyes had a wilder look in them. You would never have recognised it was Percy if he was walking down your street.

"Why do you care?" he snapped back.

"I'm your ally, Percy. What if you're like this in the arena?" he covered. "And what about Annabeth?"

Percy's jaw tightened, and he knew that she was the reason somehow. But why? What did Percy do to upset her? Or did he upset her and he now regretted it? "What do you want from her?" Percy said.

"I bumped into her at the roof," he replied, hoping their meeting wasn't a secret. "Apparently she needed a place to think stuff out."

Percy's eyes bored into his, a hint of rage inside them. "Is that all?"

"Yeah. Said something about an 'obama' or something, I dunno," he said, trying to sound like it happened all the time.

For the first time that day, Percy smiled and chuckled. "He was great."

"Obama was someone?" Peeta said, raising his eyebrows. He thought obama sounded like type of bomb or something. A sound, maybe?

Though a sound being, he remembered Annabeth saying, president did seem a little strange.

"Don't you guys have history lessons?" Percy laughed for some weird reason.

"Not a lot," he admitted. "So why isn't she in today?"

"Something happened last night, alright? Now can you please leave me alone?"

Peeta felt a twinge of frustration himself. Why wouldn't he just freaking answer him? Was he that angry? Did something happen too shocking to even talk about it? The worst that could've happened was –

Oh no.

"It's worse than that, Peeta," Percy said, reading his mind. "And it's happened before."


	11. Chapter 11

**Heeyy!**

**Thank you for the reviews and favourites :D But in your review, can you please say criticize me? Of course, you don't have to, but I'd REALLY appreciate it if you did. You know, so I could improve in my writing and stuff. **

**I hope this answers all your confused questions, though! Please tell me if it still confuses you, I'll explain.**

**Just a warning: sorry if this chapter is really depressing. **

Chapter 11

**ANNABETH**

She just didn't notice her fist punching her face until Glimmer squealed in surprise. Maybe her battle instincts really was just ADHD, since Annabeth just wanted, for that one moment, to see how much she'd be squealing when she pulled out her knife. Luckily, before she had the chance, Percy grabbed her from behind and hauled her off.

It didn't occur until she felt his strong arms around her that it was Percy who was kissing her back, too, not just Glimmer.

"Get off me," she instructed, but ended up as a cry, managing to free herself out from his grasp. How could he do this to her, given the situation they were in? Yes, it was not a situation she'd have preferred to be in, but there was no turning back. She planned to use the things she had and use them for their advantage. But when Percy was the only thing she had, what was the point in even trying anymore?

She couldn't believe that she thought what they had had been special. That the time when it was his birthday, and she had that amazing underwater kiss – what an idiot she had been, thinking she'd be with him forever! With a guy as adorable as him, he'd bound to have dumped her soon enough.

Just before she decided to hit herself (or Glimmer again, since it really did calm her down for some reason), she realised everyone in the room was staring at her. "Enjoy your food," she said as angrily as she could, only to hide what she really felt: betrayal.

She didn't know what to do, so she fled out the room and into the lift. Briskly pushing the button numbered 4, she felt like the only place to calm herself down was in her room, for now at least. After a couple of minutes or so, she'd come back down and say it was no big deal, that it was just a friendly disagreement.

Easy as pie, right?

But as soon as the elevator stopped for her floor, it seemed that somebody was already there. Realising she'd been crying all the way from the dining hall, she wiped her tears to actually see who it was.

Although she had never met this man before, a shiver went down her spine. He reminded her of a typical old man, if you ignored the snowy white hair and puffy red lips that seemed to cover his whole face. A rash, maybe? It couldn't have been plastic surgery; it seemed far to over the top, even for the future.

On the other hand, having golden skin, cosmetic elf features and bunny-themed skin was a little out of the ordinary for 'casual fashion'.

"Annabeth Chase," the man said coldly, as if her name was something he said a lot. "You're the talk of the Capitol."

"I've been told," she said, trying to sound strong. She didn't know why, but this guy made her feel like she was smaller than an ant.

"Do you know who I am, Annabeth Chase?" he asked, sitting down on the sofa, indicating her to sit down.

"No, sir," she said. _Better be polite just to be safe._

"I'm President Snow," he said, obviously trying to sound nice as she sat beside him. "I'm in charge of everything that goes round here. I'm the mayor upon mayors –"

"Sir, I know what a president is," trying to hide her anger that it was this man that had got her in this mess. If there weren't any Hunger Games, Percy wouldn't be in danger. If it wasn't for Snow, kids didn't have to die every year.

He laughed, his breath smelling of roses. "So you do. But, Ms Chase, the thing is: you and Perseus... you have something different in you that no one else has... especially you."

She cracked a smile, shifting, feeling uncomfortable. Was he talking about camp? "Yeah, I think there are people out there like us."

"Oh, of course there will be. But we've took a liking to you."

"But isn't there a favourite tribute, like, every year?" she said, remembering Peeta and Katniss when they went out on his chariot in the tribute parade, and how the crowd went wild as soon as they saw them.

"No, this is... different," he said. "We've never had such a star like you since Mr Odair –"

"Who's he?"

He looked at her as if he was about to roll his eyes, but didn't because... well, it wasn't what Presidents do. "_Finnick _Odair."

"Oh," she said simply, laughing at his name in her head. _Odair. Funny name._

"There seems to have some kind of craze about you. Every man has had his eyes on you ever since the reaping."

She smiled falsely. "I've got someone waiting back home. I can't –"

"Annabeth, did you really think you'd get away with it?" he said calmly, sudden rage appearing in his eyes. "The whole of the Capitol watches it every year. Some people even remember the majority of children in reapings, or at least, recognise them. I can safely say that not one person had seen you before. The Peacekeepers claim to not to have met you previously."

_OK, OK, _she thought, her face trying to handle it well. _OK, Mom? Yeah, this is when you swoop in and control his wisdom! Like, make him think I'm a citizen of his country or something? I know I'm your daughter and I'm supposed to be wise and everything, but this is something even I can't control! Please, I'm praying like a... like a... I don't know! Like a Percy!_

"Often in reapings I had to, um –" she stuttered.

"If you didn't volunteer, Annabeth, the Peacekeepers would've took you away and killed you." He looked at her intensely. "Now you _don't _have anyone back home that loves you. Now you _don't _have anyone _with_ you, either."

"Sir –"

"President Snow," he corrected.

"President Snow," she repeated. "I didn't – _don't_ – have anyone with me in that way. I know him from a ship crew that I worked in when I was young. He's like... like a brother to me."

"I'm not an idiot, Ms Chase," he snapped. "I can see love when I see it. And I repeat, now you are _not _in love."

"President Snow, you are not in control of that," she snapped back, visualising Aphrodite nodding in approval, but her mother slapping her on the cheek. This wasn't wise. She shouldn't have back-chatted the most evil President in American – or Panem – history.

"Why ever not?" he said.

_You're not a god by chance, are you? _she thought, but bit her tongue. This man seemed to know more than he let on.

"Ms Chase," he said, "If you win the 74th Hunger Games, you will be forced into prostitution."

"And if I refuse?"

"Perseus Jackson will be killed immediately."

She crossed her eyebrows, trying to look confused more than upset and furious. "Why tell me now? Why take your chances on me?"

"What if you decide to kiss him in the arena? That won't get the public to sign up for you. And, of course, you won't get the money."

"I get _paid?_" she said, gulping down her rage. "What do you mean?"

"If you do the deed, I don't see why you shouldn't."

She paused. "Are you going to tell him –"

"No. But you can. I really couldn't care less."

She paused, breathing heavily, trying to collect herself and thinking he'd stay there for a while. It didn't occur to her until she heard the elevator doors open that it was an in-and-out conversation.

She lifted her head. "Hey, Snow?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a family?"

"Only one grandchild," he replied, his voice still cold.

"Your grandchild must be really precious to you, right?" she asked, trying to wiggle out some depressing thoughts into his mind to pull him into this never-ending hole of sadness. If she was going to go down, she had to pull him down with her. "And what if she's in my situation? How would you feel?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Ms Chase, I don't give out information like that to people. Now have a good one."

He pressed a button and went, just like that. As soon as she did, she slumped back on the sofa, bursting into tears and holding her head in her hands. This could _not_ be her. Not Annabeth Chase.

Should she tell Percy? It seemed the only logical thing to do. Maybe they could figure something out –

Oh yeah. They weren't a team anymore. Annabeth sobs grew louder. Why didn't she just give up? It didn't seem like there weren't anything to lose.

_No. _There was camp, Thalia, Chiron and herself to fight for. She swore to herself that she it wasn't going to end until she said so, not when Snow did.

She was going to beat him someday. Overthrow the Capitol. Kill this whole idea of the Games and create a whole master plan of her own... without Percy knowing.

"Annie?"

She looked up to see Finnick – or 'Mr Odair' – staring down at her. "What do you want?" she muttered, giving a sniff and wiping her tears.

"Nothing. Just confused, that's all."

She stood up. "Confused? You of all people? Gee, that really is a surprise," she said sarcastic, not even caring if it was harsh.

"What did he tell you?" he said.

"Nothing," she said, walking to her room.

"I am your mentor, Annie –"

"Why do you call me Annie all the time?" He looked at her, dazed, so she spoke a little softer than before, "Do I look like someone you recognise?"

He smiled. "You just remind me of somebody, that's all. But please, you need to tell me. He saw me, too."

Then she realised. _We've never had such a star like you since Mr Odair... _His flirtatious grins. The sugar cube. When he smacked her arse in the train... it made sense.

It ended up that she started crying as soon as she did, since Finnick was hugging her. Immediately, she broke apart. "I'm sorry. I just need to be by myself for now."

She left for her room, not wanting to see Percy's face when he came up the lift. She knew he wasn't going to be particularly happy that she full-on tackled Glimmer earlier that day. Nor was he going to be ecstatic to see her crying non-stop.

Mostly, she didn't want to see his face, knowing that he would never know what had happened. Even if they made it out of the arena together, she'd have to leave him for weeks on end and come home for short periods of time, and he would never have known why.

_He would never know it was for him, _she thought, but dismissed it as soon as she heard someone banging on her door.

"Who is it?" she called, anxious that it'd be Percy but knowing full well that it could be an Avox, though she didn't like them to be serving her, to anyone, really.

"Can I come in?" said the person she least wanted to talk to.

"You know, I really want to be alone for a bit, okay?" she replied.

"No, I really think we need to talk this through. I didn't mean – I don't know what came over me. Please. I don't think Lion can stay away for any longer."

She snorted, wiping off any trace of tears on her face. "Fine."

Percy came in, a concerned look on his face as he sat himself down on her bed. "You've been crying. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, realising it was the hundredth time that day she said it.

"Tell me," he said sternly, taking her hand and gripping it tightly with both of his, his eyes boring into hers.

She shook it off. "No. After what you did, I don't think I can," she covered.

"Annabeth –"

"Percy, get out," she shouted, standing up. Nothing was more painful than what she was doing now. Why did she have to lie about everything?

"If you let me explain –" he yelled.

"I think you explained that kiss already," she said, staring to sob. Thankfully, he left, but with a slam of a door.

All day, she stared out of the window out from her bed. Luckily nobody called her for dinner, but why? Nobody, not even Lion, knew why she was like the way she was.

Except Finnick.

Did Finnick tell them? It didn't seem the smartest decision if he did. It surprised her that even the thought of him telling popped into her head, since he went through exactly the same thing she was having now and that he'd understand that leaving Percy unknowing was the best thing to do.

Then she remembered she was supposed to meet up with Hermione. _Oh, Styx. _She couldn't go up an elevator looking like this, and crying loudly was surely going to blow her cover. Surely Hermione would understand?

Right. She needed a place to distract herself from the mess she got herself into. Her first thought was the library, then to Montauk with Percy. But those things weren't within her reach.

_The roof. _

***...*...***

"Hi," she said awkwardly. "I was just going."

Luckily, Katniss let her through, but with a suspicious glance. She wasn't thinking that Annabeth was betraying her or anything, was she?

Hurriedly walking down the hall she had designed, she stepped in the elevator and reluctantly pressed 4. It was too late to talk to Hermione, as she guessed the time was at least one or two in the morning, judging by the moon she quickly looked at.

So she was surprised to see Finnick sitting down on one of the sofas and staring into space. "Finnick?"

"You're back," he said. "It's late."

"Oh, please, you're not my father," she snapped.

He smiled flirtatiously, but dropped it as soon as he received Annabeth's glare. "We need to talk."

"I'm sorry, but I'm actually quite tired," she lied. She felt like she couldn't sleep from either the anxiousness of the Games or President Snow – or both.

She started to make her way to her room, a pool of water begging to emerge in her gray eyes, when Finnick announced, "I told him."

"You _what_?" she said, really trying to biting back tears and rage, turning around to face him. "Why?"

"I did the same thing you did," he said. "I thought it was better they didn't know. But as time went on, it backfired."

"Oh," she said weakly, now hastily wiping her eyes before they headed for her cheeks. "How did it backfire?"

"She wasn't really doing well –"

"Annie, right?" she guessed. Finnick stared blankly at her. "I mean, you keep calling me Annie. And you said that I remind you of someone. So, is it Annie?"

He nodded slowly. "Annie wasn't doing so well without me. She kept demanding to know what I did in the Capitol. I lied, telling her that it was just stupid interviews. And those lies I kept bottled inside of me, until I burst. I told her and my whole family out of pure anger."

"But... he'll break," she said, a tear escaping.

"Look at you." He gestured at her. "You're shattering."

"He won't be the same after this," she said, shaking her head. "He used to be a spark. Now he'll just be... I don't know, a potato?"

"None of us victors are after the Games. Before, Haymitch didn't drink." He cracked a smile, this time to please himself than to flirt, which made her smile, although she didn't know who the hell this Haymitch was.

"Hey, um, Finn?"

His eyes bored into hers, with bewilderment or surprise, it was hard to tell. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Did I say –"

"Nah, it's okay," he croaked. "Just go to bed. You have training tomorrow."

With hesitation, she obeyed. She collapsed on her bed, suddenly feeling mentally exhausted, and slept almost instantly.

**Again, sorry if this is a little too depressing. :P**


	12. Chapter 12

**It's the interviews, guys! :D**

**Thank you for the reviews and favourites and follows :) I'm going to forever thank you guys, you know that, don't you? 3**

**From now on I apologise if any of the characters are/were OOC! :P**

**If you don't mind, can you please answer a question I have? 'Cause I have an idea that might be pleasing to you or not:**

**Is it good if I change the POVs to Percy and Hermione instead of Peeta and Annabeth (bear in mind that I'm not sure if I can do Hermione)? If I were to change the POVs I'd definitely do Percy, but if you don't want Hermione chapters then please suggest who else :)**

**Wow, complicated request! Anyways, enjoy!**

Chapter Twelve

**PEETA**

He would've thought this would've been a lot less nerve-racking than it actually was. There he was, the boy from District 12, looking at himself and scared about how he looked and what he was about to announce.

Well, what was he supposed to do? Smile at the fact that not only was he going in the Hunger Games, but was going to be marked as a desperate audience-pleaser by the girl he loved?

"Oh, Peeta," Portia said, squeezing his arm and smiling. "You're trembling."

_Oh, it's only the fact that I'm about to go on live television and my life depends on how the audience takes in the most personal news I can imagine, _he answered in his head.

"Listen, I've never been good at speeches, but I can tell fact: you're a handsome young man. You had an amazing start, with the fire and the smiling," she insisted. "They're going to love you."

He had to admit, the suit was the fanciest thing he had ever worn. Not even his father, who was reasonably rich in District 12, had gotten anything this luxurious.

"Just focus on what you have to say," she reminded. "Your words will change everything."

"I know," he said, giving a nervous gulp. Haymitch said the exact thing to him before when they were testing them on interviews; whatever Peeta said was an act to protect Katniss, the only thing that persuaded him to agree.

"It's OK, it's only pressure," she said. "Everyone will have it."

He shifted. "Why does it take this long to get ready?" he asked, not wanting it to sound impatient; he was glad he got all this free time to think it through and calm his nerves, even though it was hard to.

"Every designer takes their time to comfort their tribute," she said. "We're the only ones, theoretically, that can relax you. But some people use that time for a coffee break." She rolled her big brown eyes amusingly, making him a smile.

"So you work all year long?" he said.

"Well, I design all year. Get new equipment, sew some clothes, sell them or provide for my family. It's not that different from District 1, I suppose," she said. "I mean, I create clothing still. I sew clothing for my family and that, like a never-ending job. I always wondered how it was like going somewhere else, like seeing the sea, or breathing fresh air. But why am I talking about my –"

"Portia," he said, grinning. "Thank you."

***...*...***

_There he is_, he thought, looking at Caesar Flickerman in disbelief. For all these years Peeta was safe behind a screen, watching tributes getting interviewed. Now he was here, being in the same situation they were in, and feeling... weird.

This is having the same experience dead people had. Freaky business.

Caesar was talking to the audience, getting them warmed up for real juicy Hunger Games interviews. Peeta wondered what would be going through his mind. Maybe, _There are 24 kids here and I only one will talk to me again, _or _Who's socially awkward in this group?_

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Caesar welcomed Glimmer on to the stage. She was mesmerizingly beautiful, with a translucent golden dress that made her look effortless, like she always was. This was obviously what she was waiting for all her life. Her moment to shine and tell the Capitol complete lies to give her sponsors.

"Glimmer, how do you feel about going in the arena?" Caesar asked.

"Great. I think it'll be a really cool experience, with the crown I'm going to win," she said, her emerald eyes looking at the audience pleasantly.

Marvel was practically the same as Glimmer. He virtually had the same suit that he had for the reaping – a thick pink casino tux and glossy black shoes. For some reason, his menacing smiles made some girls in the audience swoon, although he wasn't all that attractive.

Next up was Clove, the small but ruthless girl from 2. It would've made him shiver if it wasn't for the frilly orange dress they slung on her to make her look mildly girly. Cato was uncomfortable with his suit, with it being giant-sized and his hair gelled sharp and pointy.

Peeta didn't know they could makehair stick out like that!

Both tributes from 3 were nervous and fidgety with their hands. It was interesting to see what they did with them; drumming them on their lap, scratching their fingers, squeezing them, holding them almost for support – and Peeta looked at his, doing nothing, giving a slight tremble.

It was then when he tuned in on the interviews, when Caesar introduced Annabeth on to the stage. She smiled dazzlingly, the whole audience undeniably roaring in applause. Her dress was like the night sky, a navy blue with sparkly dots scattered all over the place. Although she looked pretty without, her make-up made her look like a princess, bringing out her gray eyes, and her hair was down with natural curls.

"Hello!" she said brightly. It occurred to him that she was faking those smiles. "Haven't we got an amazing audience tonight?"

"Yes, we do, don't we?" Caesar replied, the crowd agreeing loudly, then pointing at his suit. "I see you've stolen my colour!"

"We all know it looks better on you," she said, laughing.

"Oh yes," he agreed, both of them sitting down. "So, let's get to business. The reaping. Spill."

"Ha, funny story," she said, shifting. "Well, you know, I volunteered."

"But simply stating 'I volunteer as tribute' wasn't good enough for dear Annabeth," Caesar joked.

"Yes," she said, exhaling from relief, smiling, pointing at Caesar as if they were friends for years. "That is _exactly_ it!"

"Can I just say you look _gorgeous _tonight?"

"Aw, thank you Caesar! You know, everyone looks amazing tonight, especially you," she said to Caesar, who to everyone's surprise, blushed. "Well done to everyone's prep team!"

"They are very talented, aren't they?" he agreed. "But they aren't going to help you in the arena. What are your tactics?"

"Chase them away." It took a while for the audience to get it, and when they did they laughed. All the tributes gave a slight smile, may have even chuckled. "Chase? My surname? Hah, best one of the night. But no, just joking. I'll be teaming up and try and avoid the others. That's all I got so far."

"That's a great plan," he commented, looking at the audience uneasily and back to Annabeth. They laughed, the reply he wanted.

"I know right?" she said, grinning.

"Now, Annabeth, that score of 5. What was that about?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Made some mistakes, I guess. But anyways, that's classified information," she told Caesar off.

"I'm sorry," he said, his arms raised in surrender.

"Better be," she threatened jokingly, giggling.

The buzzer went. "Well, that's all for Ms Chase, District 4's beautiful tribute! Good luck in the games, Annabeth." He kissed her hand before she left.

"Wow, isn't she something else?" he said, making Annabeth blush as the crowd applauded. "Everybody, please give a kind welcome to Perseus Jackson!"

The crowd cheered, not as loudly as before, as Percy came on to the stage. His face was bright red with embarrassment, making some Careers try not to laugh, which made Peeta's blood boil. Just because their turn was over didn't mean they should toss others aside and count them out as weaklings.

Percy wore a blue suit with fitting shoes, a white shirt and a yellow tie, which was probably the simplest suit out of the all tributes. His hair didn't seem to be gelled or spiked or anything, just set loose and out of place like usual.

"Hey," Percy greeted when he shook his hand, and sat down.

"Perseus –"

"I prefer Percy," he corrected, receiving a slight chuckle from the crowd.

"My apologies, _Percy_," Caesar said, smiling. "How has the Capitol been? Pleasing?"

"It's different, I guess. Especially the showers. I mean, back home, you turn on the shower, wash, then get out of the shower," he said. "But here, there's just thousands of buttons that I don't know what half of them are for."

"It's like that for us, don't worry," he assured.

"Seriously? You live here for years and you still don't know what they all are?" Percy looked generally dumbfounded, making even Caesar laugh.

"Yes, I have lived here all my life and don't know what they buttons are for," he answered numbly. "But this is your interview, not mine. How is it like to work with Mags?"

"When you ignore the blabbering thoughts and slow walking? Awesome."

The cameras zoomed in on Mags, who was grinning and giving a thumbs up. "Agreed," said Caesar. "But she's lovely nonetheless. What about Annabeth? Do I feel an alliance coming on?"

He hesitated. "Guess you have to wait until it all begins, Caesar."

"Alright," he said, sharing a knowing glance at Percy who raised his eyebrows. "We'll see tomorrow."

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who was listening intently. She really did look cute when she concentrated. But he tried to forget what he just thought and looked at everyone else, who – apart from the Careers – tensed up at Caesar's sentence. None of them were looking forward to die, or at least thinking so. They all knew that only District 1, 2, and 4 had the best chance.

Suddenly, he felt jealous. Why should they cheat, get away with it and win timeless times and 12 didn't even attempt to train?

Next up was Levana, with her fox features and intellectual words. She talked surprisingly quietly, making Caesar work really hard to make her warm up to the audience. He felt sorry for the guy for interviewing such a girl who never talked. Her district partner was nervous, but not nearly as nervous as Levana was.

As District 6's interviews passed, Peeta began to worry. They were 5 more interviews until it was his turn, and he wasn't as nervous anymore. He just wanted to get it done with and be himself. Even though it was life-threatening, he wasn't going to be nervous just because the Capitol wanted him to be.

Yeah. That's it. The Capitol _wanted _him to feel reckless.

District 7's female tribute was up, her normally bushy hair now straightened and put in a neat and complicated bun from behind her. She looked beautiful, her skinny wood-coloured dress showing her curves, the bottom half of it dragging along the floor. She didn't grin like all the others did, just did a slight smile.

"Hello! Please, sit," Caesar said, gesturing on the chair. "Wow, you look amazing tonight."

"Thank you. I haven't worn something this wonderful in ages," she said, blushing, feeling the fabric against her fingertips.

"You know, Hermione," he said, Peeta remembering her name. _Hermione. _"I've been wondering if you came from somewhere. Are you related to a Capitol?"

"No. It's weird, thinking about it. I just talk like this. It's my normal voice. I don't know why people are so annoyed or frustrated or _confused _about it, but in the end, this is me. I can't help it..." Peeta just zoned out for that moment, thinking if she was always like that. Babbling. "...but oh well. My luck."

Caesar heaved out a surprised breath, making the audience laugh. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Oh. I'm sorry," she apologised, blushing a deep red.

"That's quite alright, Hermione," Caesar said. "Now, your tactics."

"That's for you to find out," she said, but Peeta could tell that she didn't really have anything planned.

"Ah, I see," he said. "But you're clever, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said boldly. "I know something that will blow your mind, alright?"

"Go on."

"Right. Tomato is a fruit, remember? You have tomatoes, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So: if tomatoes are fruit, then isn't ketchup a smoothie?" Her eyebrows were raised as if to quiz his mental capacity, and everyone laughed, even Peeta.

"I think I can say to all of us that we have never thought of it before," he said as the buzzer went off. "Well, we hope you and your mind-blowing facts luck in the arena."

Like usual, he kissed the back of her hand before she returned to her seat. Next was her district partner, Harry, who had a weird lightning scar on his forehead and rounded glasses. There must've been a District 7 theme going on, since he had the same coloured suit on as Hermione, except a green flower on the pocket. His hair was tangled; Peeta could tell nobody could fix his messy hair.

"Mr Potter," Caesar said as they sat down. "People have been wondering about that mysterious scar on your head. Could you explain?"

Potter wondered for a moment before answering, "When we were cutting some trees, this huge piece of bark got lodged in my head, so my father had to try and surgically put it out. And he did, and this is the scar I had left from the stitches."

Peeta thought that it was a lie at first, but then shrugged it away. Some districts must've had different events than others. He looked at Hermione, who was struggling not to laugh. "Okay, well, at least you're alright now. So how's the Capitol been for you?"

"Great, I suppose," Harry answered. "The food's great. Have you _tried_ the treacle tarts?"

"Ah yes," Caesar said reminiscently, "but I haven't eaten it for a while. Is it nice?"

He had a look in his eyes that said _Hell yeah!_ but thankfully he held himself back. "Yeah, I think I ate about four dishfuls of that stuff last night."

The audience laughed. "Dear boy, I forgot to ask Hermione, but your names – they are quite old, am I right?"

Harry cracked a smile, scratching his hair uncomfortably. "Yeah. The names had been passed down, I think. I'm actually Harry Jr in my household. I'm not sure about Hermione's, though."

Hermione burst out, giggling. "I see you're quite the comedic person," Caesar commented, staring at Hermione amusingly as she went red for either laughing so much or embarrassment.

"No, not really, she just thinks everything I say is hilarious," he covered. Peeta thought it must be something that happened in the past, and that Hermione was undoubtedly an old friend of Harry's, since she just laughed harder.

"Are you pleased with your score of nine in training?"

"Honestly, I don't see why they gave me a nine."

"You must be very skilled," Caesar said, obviously hinting for a little information.

"You have _no idea_," he answered.

The buzzer beeped, making Harry jump and the audience laugh. "Nice meeting you, Harry. Please give a round of applause for Mr Harry _Jr _Potter!"

District 8, 9 and 10's interviews flew by. Peeta didn't really pay attention, since he was thinking about how he was going to _talk_ to Caesar, how to _warm up _with Caesar without seeming Career-like, how he was going to _break out the news _to Caesar and the whole of Panem. It felt like he didn't have any more time to focus like everyone else.

He had the decency to refocus when Caesar introduced Rue on to the stage. She was in a cute purple gossamer gown, her black fizzy hair held back with a pretty matching bow. She had fairy wings that looked like she really was flying, especially when she went to join with Caesar. She walked like a bird, and when she was standing she was ready to take flight. The way she held herself was nothing like Thresh, who was built like an ox; Peeta was half-expecting the ground to violently vibrate with his every step.

Katniss was halfway across the stage when he realise it was her turn. Her beautiful flame-coloured dress and her complicated plait made him hold his breath. Sitting next to her was breath-taking enough, but to see her stand up and smile... he literally stopped breathing altogether.

Her interview was what he called cute, especially when she was twirling around for the cameras. Although he never even expected it in the first place, he felt a little angry when she never said anything about Peeta. It was funny to think that he was going through all this for a girl that never even saw him in the first place.

As soon as the buzzer went, Peeta felt he could just stand up and leave the whole place, and say, _Oops, wrong room! Right, can anyone give me directions to the toilet?_

"Ladies and gentlemen, our final tribute of the night: Peeta Mellark!"

He gulped, standing up from his seat and smiling. The applause he received was shocking, since he didn't volunteer like Katniss or was an eye-opener like Glimmer. He was the boy with the bread. He was, well... Peeta.

"Hello Caesar!" he greeted, shaking his hand and taking a seat. _Finally, the time has come_, he thought wistfully.

"Everyone, the male tribute of District Twelve!" Caesar said. _I take it that's a hello._

"Wow. I wish I had such an amazing audience," he said. Complimenting the audience was always a good opening, and he got the true essence of it until the crowd roared in reply.

"I agree, I agree," he replied, giving him a grin.

"Hey, Caesar? Can I ask you a question?" he said, not really thinking about the plan anymore and going with his instincts.

"Okay, but bear in mind this is your interview and not mine," he warned, making some of the audience laugh.

"Do I smell like roses?"

This blew Caesar and the audience off guard. As a reply, Caesar smelt him and Peeta smelled him back, the audience properly laughing. When they stopped, Peeta continued, "You know, I wasn't sure, since it was either roses or lavender."

"Peeta, we have wanted to ask you a question not nearly as disturbing yours," Caesar said. The audience's noise died down. "Have you got a lady waiting at home?"

Peeta hesitated. Should he tell him out-front now, or later? The conversation was probably going to last at least for another minute or two, so he made the decision of pushing the announcement later. He shook his head.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be a special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

Peeta sighed. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

Sympathy hung around the crowd, making Peeta even more nervous. They were really were tuning in on what Peeta had to say.

"She have another fellow?" he asked.

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," he said, remembering Katniss's smiles when she's around Gale.

"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" Caesar said encouragingly.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning..." Peeta paused, picking his words carefully, "...won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?" he replied, clueless. Or maybe he wasn't clueless. Did he know anything about what Peeta was doing, or what he was going to say? Did he plan out everyone's conversations? He must've been a mastermind to plan out something so unpredictable, so spontaneous.

Well. This was it – the line that will make Katniss's chances to be a victor more likely, the line that will make Katniss label him as the desperate-for-attention boy with the bread, the line that will forever make the Capitol tag them star-crossed lovers.

"Because… because… she came here with me."


	13. Chapter 13

**If you have glanced down at the word 'PERCY' or just skipped this thing altogether, you'd notice it's in Percy's POV.**

**Hell yeah, I'm changing it!**

**I've decided, because I love you guys, that I'd do Percy, Hermione, Annabeth, Harry, Peeta and sometimes Katniss POVs. It wouldn't necessarily be in order; it'd sort of shuffle around a little. So I hope you're happy with my decision! :D**

**Thank you SO much for the reviews! I mean, 100 REVIEWS! You are officially too AMAZING for me to describe!**

**Anyways, enjoy :P **

Chapter 13

**PERCY**

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 74th Hunger Games begin!"

He didn't even know what voice it belonged to, but he guessed that it was probably one of those overly-obsessed-with-watching-people-die Capitol dudes.

_One second... _he thought, getting a major brainwave of knowledge. He wasn't an idiot, but he wasn't the brainiest like Annabeth, either. He delved his hand into one of the pockets of his beige out-doorsy trousers, and to his relief, found his pen. Last time he had it on him was when Lion had confiscated it off him, unaware that it could re-appear.

Well, he had a weapon. But not a weapon that could harm anyone, only startle them.

Wait, where's Annabeth? He frantically turned his head in all the directions, finding out that they were in a full circle around a massive horn-shaped... he didn't even know what to call it. It wasn't even a building.

What the Hades was he thinking about, anyways? Annabeth's life was at steak – why was he thinking about a stupid horny thing? He spotted her, straight across where he stood, relieved. Their eyes met, letting him see the calculating stormy gray eyes he fell in love with.

He forced himself to look around.To his left was a forest filled with trees and uneven surfaces.

_The woods! _Of course, this was Lou's dream! Why didn't he think of it before? Now he wished he asked for more detail about the people Lou didn't recognise and about the whole place before they took off to the future. He tried not to feel frustrated with himself as he continued to analyse his surroundings.

Beside him was a deep-in-thought Katniss, looking straight across the nothingness behind Annabeth. It was perhaps a cliff, most probably a steep hill but he wasn't sure. He just wished she was there beside him, whispering to him her tactics. And then he spotted it.

_The lake._

He just wanted to cry right there, he was so happy. He was so overjoyed that the others probably looked at him with suspicious looks, so he tried to pull a straight and manly face. Annabeth turned to see what he was so happy about, which then made her smile. _At least she's confident in my abilities_, he thought positively.

As soon as the gong went, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't just dive into the lake with his allies and suspect that nobody will notice. So, as usual, he went with his instincts, which he hoped to be good that day. He sprinted towards the weird horn thing, spotting some weapons, thinking that the viewers – and, of course, the other tributes – would grow suspicious as to why he had a weapon so soon.

As soon as he got there, he took a glimpse behind him to see all the Careers – Glimmer, Cato, Clove and Marvel – killing people off he talked to less than a day ago. He saw them fall lifeless to the ground, and it surprised him; never had he been so angry, even though his closest friends had died in two major battles before. These kids didn't even _choose _to be here. His friends did.

Percy decided to come back to the present, as Cato had noticed him and smiled wickedly. Quickly, Percy rummaged through the swords and got out his pen. He looked at it as it grew into a sword, all golden and light, feeling right in his hand.

He saw Thresh come in, looking majorly defendant. But because of the conversation they had in one day of training, Thresh had learned to trust Percy, so he just grabbed a metal club, a bag slung over his shoulder, nodded his head and went on his way to the woods.

He glanced around to see Annabeth, deflecting one of Clove's knives with a bag she picked up, which relieved him to know she was following his plan. He spotted Hermione dodging an arrow from Glimmer, and Harry picking up one of the spears to throwing it to Marvel's way. Unfortunately, District 1's male was far too skilled for that, since he dodged it with no effort.

But Cato was now charging towards Percy, which brought him back to his senses. The guy, who was practically twice his size, ran towards him, and as soon as he came near enough, Percy sliced Riptide through his stomach. Cato looked down, shocked to see that he was uninjured, but by that time Percy was out in the woods, along with Hermione, Annabeth, and Harry.

They kept on running away from the scene until he was sure they were out of reach from the others. He noticed Annabeth still carrying the pierced bag, so he suggested to stop and check out the pack.

"Yeah, there might be some water," Harry agreed. "I'm thirsty."

But all Annabeth did was stare at Percy, stunned. "You had it all this time?"

"Yeah," he said as Riptide shrank back into a pen. Then he remembered people would be watching, as he corrected, "I mean, no, I didn't have any weapon of any type all this time."

"And you never _told _me?"

"Well, I thought it'd be self explanatory."

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised, not knowing if it was part of the act or real, as Hermione said, "We're here too, you know! Now let's see what's in the bag. We need to see what's in it before we find shelter – it might be a build-it-yourself tent."

"I don't think a build-it-yourself tent would save you from those killer kids," Harry commented with a slight smile.

Hermione ignored Harry and focused on Annabeth opening the bag. She plucked out a damp sleeping bag, a dagger (which she grinned about), some pills and four bottles.

"Yes!" she said, getting out the bottles. But it dawned to everybody that there was a huge hole in all of them, and the bag itself was soaking wet. "Oh Styx."

"They can't just kill us by just dehydrating us," Hermione reasoned. "It's not a good enough show."

"But in training –" Annabeth began, but was interrupted by a sound of cannons shooting. "What is –"

"Shh!" Hermione scowled at them, counting each shot with her fingers. When it finished, she choked back a sob. "Eight. Dead."

"_Di immortales_," he whispered. He realised they were dumb, but how stupid of the Careers to fall in the Capitol's spell.

"Di what?" Harry said, confused. Hermione leaned in his ear and whispered something about the Greek language, and he nodded.

"We should search for water. Maybe that lake, too," Annabeth said, looking knowingly at Percy in his deep sea-green eyes.

He remembered Finnick breaking the news to him, and how enraged he felt – no, correction – _feeling_. How could the Capitol do this to her? She never deserved anything this bad. Percy wanted her to win, but with those types of consequences? He was beginning to hesitate.

Hermione coughed. "The lake?"

"Uh, yeah," Percy agreed.

"The lake," Annabeth repeated. "There should be a river leading down the lake somewhere – I saw some rabbits on our way here. There must be water nearby."

"Rabbits have fast feet," Percy commented, amused, in return receiving a sarcastic smile from Annabeth.

"You better shut up, Seaweed Brain," she said, forcing herself not to smile, as she looked away to the distance. "Its hares that have fast feet, anyway."

"But still, don't underestimate rabbits and their speed," Percy joked, and Annabeth couldn't hold in her laughter from then on. With all the miserable things that happened, everything even mildly funny seemed hilarious. The other two looked at them weirdly.

"Are you _sure _you're not Careers?" Harry said. This just made them laugh harder.

"Listen, this is the _Hunger Games_. We need to try and get some water before we die, okay?" Hermione tried to persuade, in the end succeeding. The two died down.

"So which direction should we go?" Percy asked. He didn't expect the Games to be filled with his laughs; then again, he's always laughing when he's around Annabeth.

"Well, the general direction we were running was south from the Cornucopia –" _so _that's_ what it's called, _Percy thought,"and from where I was standing, the lake was behind me. I swear it had a stream leading down this way."

"C'mon," he said, breaking into a run. "Judging by the sky, it's about late afternoon."

"Wait, we don't want to get anymore dehydrated, do we?" Harry said, stopping. "And can't we get water from the ground?"

"With a wishing well, yes," Annabeth said, rolling her eyes.

"No, I mean, with a – nevermind," he said. "Let's just speed-walk to this lake, so we don't lose as much energy in running."

And so they did. Percy didn't expect that he would be spending his final days speed-walking, but it proved to be worthwhile. Not only did they go in an all-round OK speed, but they couldn't help but laugh. It was too ironic.

"Do you think they'd find us?" Annabeth said in between wheezes.

Hermione snorted. "Not like this."

***...*...***

Never had he felt so relieved to see the lake lying in front of him. Guessing from her reaction, Annabeth was too, since she closed her eyes and let out a lungful of air, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. She looked so at ease that it made Percy smile.

He shook the thought off. After what Snow did, he wasn't sure if he could even hold her hand. "We're here!" he said, holding out his hands. Then he realised how breathless he was, and he literally collapsed.

"Maybe we shouldn't have speed-walked," Hermione said regretfully.

_Ain't no shit, Sherlock_, he thought in his head, but was too tired to say it aloud. He turned his head to Annabeth, who was looking at him, too, and she laughed, probably knowing what Percy was thinking. But all what he was thinking now was how her laugh was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

"Right," Harry coughed. "The pills – they have to be for cleaning the water."

"Yes, but the bottles have a hole in them."

"We can make a bowl out of leaves," Annabeth said, an arm wrapped around her bent knees and the other gripped tightly on her knife. "I saw it on a documentary once."

Harry looked surprised while Hermione nodded. "Harry and I will gather them. You can stay here."

"Wait!" The two stopped at Annabeth's sudden call, turning around before returning into the woods. "Don't go far. And have this." Without any effort, she threw the knife in a tree just centimetres away from Harry's head.

"Oh," he said, staring at the knife with amazement and pulling it out. "Thanks."

As the District 7 tributes disappear, the two half-bloods stared at the lake. Percy felt its streaming current flow down, making him feel at home. Even if it wasn't the sea, it was still a snippet of his father.

It wasn't fair. He should've been at Camp Half-Blood thousands of years ago, fighting beside Grover, Chiron, Will, Katie, the Stolls, _Annabeth. _She might not be so stricken and hurt if they didn't step through that freaking time portal.

_It's not that simple_, he heard Chiron say in his head. Gods, he wished they listened to him. They might have already died if they did, peacefully if they were lucky.

Annabeth looked at him expectantly. "What?" he said.

"Do you think they know?" she repeated, nodding her head at the lake. He knew the sentence was supposed to be _Do you think they know about you being a demigod?_

"No," he said plainly. "They would have to have a water source, or else we'd all die in a couple of days."

"What if we die?" she asked, surprising him with the negative question. "What happens then?"

He thought for a moment. _Elysium_, he would've immediately answered if he wasn't on TV. "We'd be at peace," he finally replied.

Annabeth was about to say something when there was a rustle behind them. She looked at Percy with her tactful eyes, letting him know that they shouldn't kill anyone. They weren't Snow's toys, at least not here, not now.

"Who's there?" he said, getting out his Riptide.

"A pen?" Clove giggled, coming out of the bushes. "Is that a token?"

"No," Annabeth said, standing her ground as Riptide grew into a sword the second time before. Honestly, the look on Clove's astonished face was enough for Percy.

"But – but that's impossible!" she shrieked, but gathered herself. "Maybe Cato was right. Real or not real, I'm going to end your stay here, alright?"

"Okay," Percy said light-heartedly, trying to annoy the Career. She threw the knife aimed straight at his chest, but he narrowly dodged. Annabeth ran for Clove, probably to get her into some kind of lock, but obviously the District 2 tribute was trained well, since she grabbed her hand and twisted her hand in a painful position. She screeched but didn't cry, on her knees with her arm raised straight in the air. He was beginning to worry if it would break any minute.

"Got her right here," she threatened, pulling yet another knife from her belt and bending down to Annabeth's level. "Just a weak pretty girl, aren't you? Disappointing. _Pathetic._ Why don't your wimpy little partner put the sword down and then you can fight. If you're strong enough, that is."

"That's it." She tried to kick Clove's leg but she just stepped away and laughed.

"Pretty, blonde, but dumb. Typical," she said.

_If only she knew._


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you for the reviews and the favourites and the follows! :D:D:D:D:D**

**Just to warn you – this chapter, in my opinion, is a little boring, unless having the first Hermione chapter counts as exciting. It's here because some things need to be explained. Also, it's a little short, so sorry for the long wait! **

Chapter 14

**HERMIONE**

As she picked out some wide and fairly large leaves from bushes, she didn't know what to think, which was awfully strange for a girl like herself. Her mind was used to work like a never ending string of thoughts, and never before had she been so... what was the word for it? Confused? Surprised?

_Inexperienced_, she concluded. It was strange and, not to mention, terrible, to be in such an ironic environment; with all this high-tech, she would've thought they would use it for good.

"How do they know about documentaries?" Harry said to fill the silence, pulling a leaf off a tree branch. "They don't have documentaries here, do they?"

"They do back at their home," she said, hoping that her words will come across. "They're like us."

Harry nodded understandingly. "We should go back," he suggested, looking at the heap of leaves lying on the ground. "We've got loads already."

As they trekked back to where they were moments ago, her thoughts traced back to when this all started.

_She was dancing with Ron in a ball that the Minister of Magic had organised. It reminded her of the Yule Ball in Hogwarts, except it was her boyfriend – not a native Quidditch player who pronounced her name wrong – dancing with her._

_Both Hermione and Ron felt extremely happy; she was aiming to continue SPEW and make it the next big campaign, while Ron was being an Auror along Harry while helping George with Weasley's Magic Wheezes. _

"_Alright, Hermione?" Harry said brightly, Ginny grinning from ear to ear. Hermione replied with a hyperactive nod. He excused himself from Ginny and gestured Hermione to follow him to the punch bowl. Reluctantly, she obeyed._

"_What is it?" she said._

"_I was on the loo –"_

"_Thanks, Harry, for telling me that," she said sarcastically._

"_No problem," he said, receiving a snort from Hermione. "Listen – I was on the toilet, when I saw this green glow in the next cubicle."_

"_Are you telling me that I have to analyse it? Right now?" She glanced back at Ron, who raised his eyebrows and saying a comment to Ginny. _

"_Sorry, Hermione, but I thought you might know."_

If only they didn't look, if only they weren't curious – which was impossible, since it was within their nature to be so inquisitive. But looking back, it was a stupid thing to do, the so-not-Hermione thing to do.

She was brought back to the present when they arrived back to where Annabeth and Percy was, and both of them were speechless at what lay in front of them.

"I can explain!" Percy and Annabeth said in unison before Hermione could ask.

All Harry was doing was staring at an unconscious Clove who was soaked from head to toe, Annabeth also in drenched clothes, a perfectly dry Percy (who stood hip-deep in the lake), and the muddy ground which was dry before.

"Guess we should move camp, then," Hermione said quietly.

"So you don't want to know what happened?" Annabeth said with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really," Harry said casually, reading her mind. _Curiousness lead us here, after all_, she thought.

Percy smiled as he walked out of the lake, almost reluctantly. But the thing that worried her wasn't the fact that a murdering Career was lying unconscious on the ground, ready to pounce on them any minute – it was the fact that as soon as Percy went out of the water, he wasn't wet. Remarkably, his legs had no trace of dampness.

"I want _that _explained," Hermione said, pointing at his trousers.

"You see, I, am a, um –" Percy began.

"Mutant," Annabeth interrupted plainly, nodding as if she was surprised herself for saying that. "Percy is a mutant."

"A mutant," Hermione concluded, suspecting dishonesty, though not really mad about it; maybe they were a witch and a wizard, obeying the law? Or where they something else that wasn't very pleasant?

"Yeah," Percy said, warming up to the idea. "I'm a mutant!"

"We should move her," Harry said, nodding at Clove. "That way, she won't know we were here."

"Or we can kill her," Hermione suggested, immediately taking it back as soon as she said it. Was the Hunger Games making her this way, all cruel and barbaric? Why did she even think about killing a girl? Yeah, she was a Career, but a human being nevertheless. Clove was under the Capitol's spell – she couldn't help it.

Annabeth's face darkened. "I'm not killing anyone. Not for... not for _him_, anyways." Her expression looked as if it recalled a difficult memory, something Hermione was sure her curiousness would come to use. When she noticed everyone's eyes on her, her face hardened to her usual I-can-do-this face, snatching the leaves from Harry's grasp. "Let's just make the freaking bowl and go before she wakes, then."

She instructed the others that someone should be beside Clove in case she suddenly wakes up. Immediately, Hermione volunteered, feeling as if she owed her somehow. That her words were far too harsh for someone who couldn't help killing people for a sick old man, if that made any sense.

Thinking about it, it didn't. But she still stepped up to the occasion, receiving the knife from Annabeth's belt and sub-consciously held it to Clove's throat. If she woke up, she'd be forced to stay still.

While the other three were attempting to weave all the leaves (with difficulty), she noticed cuts and bruises on the Annabeth. It surprised her that she didn't hear her screams from where they gathered the leaves, which was not too far away.

Unless she was used to pain.

"Want some?" Percy asked, bringing Hermione from her thoughts and holding out the bowl. She nodded, and at the first sip it was so refreshing. "Nice, right?"

"Yeah," she said, though it probably was rhetorical, smiling. "How many pills have you got for cleaning the water?"

"About ten," Harry answered, packing the pills back into the bag. "We need about two to clean it each time, though, so we have five drinks left."

"Let's hope our interviews have gone well, then," Annabeth mumbled, making Percy snort. She cracked a smile, her gray eyes looking at one of the pebbles on the ground. Although bossy at times, Hermione knew that she was an ally that was useful – with all the sponsors she was getting for both her looks and personality, they'd get heaps of helpful supplies.

"C'mon then," Hermione said, standing up and handing the knife back to Annabeth. "Let's go."

.


	15. Chapter 15

**Just quickly going to say – have you got Mark of Athena (Heroes of Olympus) yet?! It's out! Now! :D **

**And thanks for all the reviews and follows and favourites and story alerts! :D:D **

Chapter 15

**PEETA**

"Ladies and gentlemen," Claudius Templesmith's voice boomed across the arena, making Peeta feel humiliatingly petrified. "Let the 74th Hunger Games begin!"

_Well, it hasn't officially begun yet, _he argued in his mind, then shrugged the stupid thought off and focused on what was at hand. He looked at his surroundings, and was surprised at the simplicity; he would've thought it'd be something more complicated, but of course, being in a forest would undoubtedly prove to help tributes hide. He could somehow tell it was big and inherited many places to avoid Careers.

He saw Percy a few pedestals on his right, and he saw his ocean eyes light up as soon as he saw the lake. Strangely, he looked more happy and productive than the last few days of training. He glanced at Katniss, who ignored Percy and the weird stares he was receiving, before focusing on a bow and arrow set.

_Listen to Haymitch, _he pleaded in his mind. She turned her head his way, and he shook his head, hoping his point went across. _Go in the woods and find water. Please._

Suddenly, the gong went, and all hell broke loose. Peeta sprinted his way out of the Cornucopia, receiving some wicked looks from the Careers as they killed off others. Was that even possible? To kill someone without even focusing?

Either way, he was certainly going to be their next victim, just for his lover-boy act. _Guess it backfired_, he thought jokingly to himself.

He tripped over a fellow tribute, afterwards noticing that she was dead. Surprising him, it was the fidgety District 5 girl, and it shocked him for the fact that moments ago she was fine – fearing for her life, but fine. And now she was dead, in just a mere three minutes. Her light green eyes that used to be alive and looking nervously around were now a vacant bushy colour, and it saddened him even if it was just a glance. He _so _wanted to kill whoever killed her, which brought him back to his mission:

_Stay alive to keep Katniss safe._

Quickly, Peeta got himself off from the girl from 3 and ran to the general direction that he guessed Katniss would've gone. At the corner of his eye he saw Annabeth defending herself from Clove, and both of District 7 tributes attempting to fight the Careers. After all those times of thinking her was a coward, he almost wanted to fight with them – but he knew he couldn't. It was too risky. He desperately hoped they wouldn't die, although he knew himself that they would in the end – Katniss _had _to win. She just had to.

Even if that meant Annabeth, Percy and everyone else had to die in order for her to do so, counting himself.

_That's brand new information! _he thought sarcastically as he, with relief, made it in the woods. Although he was expecting it, there was no clear trace of Katniss anywhere. They certainly weren't lying when they said she was light on her feet.

After moments of sprinting away in a random direction and forcing himself not to hear the cannons shooting, he realised that he went away from the Cornucopia empty-handed. Oh, great. Now he had to go back sooner or later to gather some supplies, a weapon if he was lucky.

His luck had officially proven his theory that his luck sucked; first it was the simplest of things, like, oh say, the fact that Katniss would never see him, and that he had the mother that resembled a witch from the stories that his brothers used to scare him.

_Bet they're not laughing now_, he thought, making him want to laugh out loud. All those nights worrying about the monsters under his bed suddenly sounded stupid.

On the contrary, he heard laughter coming from a general east direction, causing him to come to a stop. He let out a breath of relief as he realised the sound belonged to Annabeth and Percy. For some reason he could always trust them... he just didn't know why.

"Are you _sure_you're not Careers?" he heard a familiar voice that didn't belong to either of them. To his surprise, he recognised it as Harry Potter's, the District 7 boy. Peeta was overwhelmed with curiosity; why would Annabeth choose Harry as an ally? Was he helpful in anyway? He couldn't think of anything that would prove useful in the Games; eating bugs and spitting them out was surely not skilful. But he guessed he needed to expect the unexpected.

Everyone knew about Johanna Mason's story, and how that ended up.

"Listen, this is the _Hunger Games_. We need to try and get some water before we die, okay?" Well, _that _was, he could honestly say, predictable. With Hermione giggling all the way through Harry's interview, even _Effie _could figure that one out.

As the District 4 tributes' laughter died down, Peeta's urgency came back, and returned to his cowardly running away.

It wasn't until his mouth felt dry that he decided to sit down on a convenient log, dawning on him that finding water was not as easy as Haymitch made it sound. He knew that there was a massive lake, but that was, what, a mile away? He'd dehydrate in no time if he went back. Besides, the Careers would undoubtedly settle themselves there.

See? _They _had all the luck!

Before he could feel even sorrier for himself, he heard a rustle of bushes behind him. His head sharply turned, gripping his sturdy belt and feeling frustrated with himself for not getting any type of defensive weapon. Yes, his strength was in hand-to-hand combat, and weight-lifting, but what if it was Thresh or Cato there? He'd be practically a mouse.

Someone snickered as they emerged from the bushes. "You look so scared," Glimmer said amusingly. "Priceless."

"Glimmer, don't be rude," Clove said, elbowing her in the arm as if it was their little inside joke. "He's a guest, remember? He'll leave soon enough."

_Nice metaphor_, he complimented in his head. He didn't dare imagine what she'd do to him if he said it out loud.

"Right, who kills Loverboy?" Cato asked, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, looking at him as if he was his own plate full of delicious food.

Marvel scanned Peeta, assessing him. "I think I'll do this one. But I want him to run, just so he can hope for a little while. For me, it'd be more... thrilling."

"It'd tire you out," Clove pointed out.

"Yeah, but why do you care? If you want to be a victor, then of course you want him to tire out," Cato said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't want weak and pathetic allies, Cato. See, this is exactly why you shouldn't have volunteered. You're stupid," Clove said.

"Love you too, Clove," he joked, receiving a glare afterwards. He turned to Marvel. "So you want to –"

"You know, you don't need to kill me." Everyone turned to Peeta, surprised he'd suddenly found his voice, which was now brave and confident. He nearly convinced himself. "Don't you want to kill off others?"

Glimmer threw him a curious look, giving him one of her seductive smiles. "Sure."

"Not as if Careers haven't done any of this for the last 73 years or anything," Marvel said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as the District 2 tributes laughed. It was obvious he was jealous of Peeta, yet Glimmer's emerald eyes didn't lay off him, as if she didn't hear the last comment at all.

"I know Katniss well, and she told me her all her strategies. I think I have a pretty good chance of hunting her down with you," he lied. All he could do was guess she was still sprinting away, or climbing up trees or making herself a bow and arrow – if she wasn't dead, already that is.

His plan was clear; lure the Careers away from any signs of Katniss or protect her from them if they found her. It sounded incredibly difficult, but what other potions did he have now?

"For all we know, you love each other," Glimmer said matter-of-factly, and to Peeta's astonishment, a hint of jealousy. "Why would you want to kill her?"

"Is it because you admire someone else?" Clove said, her eyes lighting up teasingly.

He sighed to himself inside. _If this is what it takes... _"Yeah. Yes I do, actually."

He could feel the status rates sponsors for Peeta Mellark slowly sinking as he spoke.

"Really?" Cato said as his eyebrows raised mockingly. "I wonder who it is?"

Glimmer blushed while punching him in the arm roughly. "Can't we keep him alive? Just for a while. It can't hurt."

_Since when was I the pet parrot?_

"I don't know..." Marvel said, unsure, giving him a distrustful glance.

_Please, please, _please_ be dumb! _Peeta pleaded.

"He can be useful. I mean, we can always kill him in his sleep if we found out he's lying," Clove said. "But just in case you run away or something..." she pulled out a knife out from her shoulder belt and took a step towards him.

"No, I'm not a coward like some of them are," he said, remembering what he said on the roof; _Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games. _He could tell himself that he the Games were changing him already and it had only been a couple of hours. "I'm not going to run away."

"I like him already," Clove smirked, placing the knife back. "We'll keep him, unless you guys want to go and die while Glimmer, Loverboy and I actually _attempt _to win this?"

"Yeah, well, sure. OK," Marvel said, now certain. Clove really could win an argument. "But if things go wrong... I get to kill him?"

"Yes."

"With the running theory?"

"With the running theory," Clove repeated, nodding. "Now let's go find the brat. Loverboy?"

"Yeah. Uh, this way," he said, turning the opposite way Annabeth and her pack went. Obediently, the Careers followed, but talked to each other as if the Games hadn't even started, like it happened every day.

"Clove, I'm not joking," Cato said after a while of arguments. "I _saw _that sword in his hand. He sliced it right through me –"

"Which proves that you're not cut out for the Hunger Games," Clove teased.

He ignored her. "And I didn't have any injury. See?" Peeta turned to see him lifting up his top and prodding his six-packs. "I _swear_. I'm not lying to you."

"But it _is_ excruciatingly painful to hear your voice, so shut up," Clove snapped, winning once again.

"Hey, Peeta?" Glimmer's flirtatious voice filled the silence, running to catch up with Peeta and his quick pace. "Are you sure you're leading us the right way?"

_No. _"Yes."

"Why would she be headed into the depths of the woods?" Marvel criticized, his eyes turning into slits.

"Stop it, Marvel," Glimmer snapped, realising his stare. "Remember Tizzy?"

It must've been considerably humiliating, because he turned bright red. "Don't remind me."

"You two can flirt a different time, okay? We've got tributes to kill," Clove tamed, making Peeta realise that not only was she critical one, but was the mother of the pack, too, in a way. "I suggest we go down to the lake. At least one tribute would be stupid enough to go there."

"Loads of tributes got themselves backpacks. A lot of them would have water in them," Glimmer said.

"Think 'long-term'," she said, looking at her as if envying her to question her intelligence. "We should go down there."

"I'm going with Peeta," Glimmer argued.

Cato, deciding to join the conversation, raised his large hands. "If she's going, I'm going."

"Me too," Marvel agreed.

She glared at the both of them. "Fine! That just _fine_. Your loss. I'll go there and you lot stay here to camp, following your new _Messiah_!" she huffed, nodding at Peeta. "Feel free to hunt!" She turned around and stomped away, muttering "dickheads" before disappearing into the distance.

Cato sighed and shook his head. "Always was the odd one out."

***...*...***

"So... how's it like in District 12?" Glimmer said, plucking the string from her bow and looking at Peeta seductively. The other guys volunteered to go hunting, probably not able to watch Glimmer not flirting with anyone else other than themselves.

"Umm..." He felt more and more uncomfortable by the second by Glimmer's emerald stare, feeling his face burning more by the second. "I work in the bakery with my family, so I don't get my fair share of the poverty. But it's..."

"Filled with a starvation?" she asked, blinking several times flirtatiously.

"How would _you_ know?" he snapped. She wouldn't have known anything about the thin little kids unable to play with the others, the wails of the babies unable to have any food, the mine explosions...

"We just happen to have text books at school," she excused, looking at the fire. After a long period of awkward silence, she asked, "Were you scared?"

"What?"

"At the reaping. Were you scared?" she repeated.

_Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games_, his voice echoed in his mind."Yeah. I was really, really scared."

She placed her pale hand on top of his, and looked into his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

"Even if it's just the two of us in the end?" he asked, trying to distance himself from her. He would _not _fall under her sexy spell. He just couldn't! "Don't you want to win?"

That worked. Almost immediately, she focused back on the fire they greedily stole from a disappeared tribute. He hoped whoever it was wouldn't come back; he dreaded his first kill, his first murder – yet he knew he'd gradually have to.

After a moment's agonizing silence, she turned to him again, whispering, "Two of us can play this game."

When the two boys emerged from the dark, Peeta never felt so grateful towards the Careers. "Two squirrels and a rabbit. That should do for a night," Cato said, plopping the three dead animals on the ground in front of them and smiling at them broadly, like a little child expecting a reward.

"Thanks, you two," Glimmer said, giving one of her dazzling smiles, making them blush.

"Have you seen Clove?"

"No, actually," Peeta said. _Might as well join in_, he thought. "Would she usually be here by now?"

"Yes! Yes she should!" Cato looked generally angry, but Peeta could tell that this was the mask to hide his worry.

"Am I sensing... _rage_?" Marvel said incredulously.

"Shut up, Marvel," he snapped. "Look for her. Come on! _Look_!"

"Cato, there hadn't been any cannon," Glimmer reasoned impatiently. "She's OK."

"No, she's –"

"Oh my _GOD_, Cato!" Everyone turned to see exasperated Clove, crossing her arms and an eyebrow raised at her district partner. "I'm here – since when were you this _weak_?"

He looked at her, rage but slight relief filling his baby blue eyes. "I was never –"

"What happened to _you_?" Marvel said amusingly, making Peeta realise that she was wet from head to toe.

"Took a swim," Glimmer snickered.

"No! But it's... hard to explain," she said, sitting herself on one of the logs as the guys sat next to her. "I was heading to the lake."

"Wow!"

"Shut up, Marvel," Glimmer said.

"Cato was... right," Clove grudgingly admitted. "Perseus seriously did have a... a shimmering sword."

"I TOLD you!" Cato said, grinning and pointing at her.

She ignored him. "The sword wasn't a sword though. It was a pen. A _pen_."

The three other Careers burst out laughing. Peeta himself was having trouble believing her, chuckling a little while she glared. When they all died down she continued, "The annoying little Chase was attempting to bring me down, but I locked her into a grip so she couldn't move. Then the weirdestthing happened..."

She paused, recalling the memory, her eyebrows arched. "The boy, Perseus... he backed up to the lake. I didn't think of it much – I just thought he was a strange little boy. Mentally knocked up in the head, y'know?"

"Yes," Cato said, hiding his urge to laugh.

"A 10ft wave emerged out of nowhere. The last thing I remember is seeing Perseus doing this strange gesture with his hand, then I just blacked out, woke up... alone, in the night."


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey! Thanks for the reviews & favourites & follows! :D**

**Sorry that this is a short chapter. It's just that I had imagination overload (D:) and besides – I felt like it was the right place to stop.**

**So yeah! Thanks, and enjoy! **

Chapter 16

**ANNABETH**

"_Annabeth!" _

_She turned to see Rue, joyfully skipping down Half-Blood Hill and grinning ear-to-ear. She looked different now they were out of harm's way; her frizzy black hair bouncing after her, her golden eyes alight and happy. It dawned on Annabeth that it was the first time she saw Rue laugh._

"_You OK, Birdy?" _Where did that nickname come from?_ she wondered, but wanted to tickle her belly to hear her laugh again anyway. "Why so cheerful?"_

"_They're coming!"_

"_Who?"_

_Now she was right beside her, tugging on her hand and beckoning her to come with her. "Quickly! Or they'll disappear. They're nervous, you know. About seeing you."_

_Annabeth couldn't help laughing. They, out of all people, knew they had better things to worry about. "Alright, Birdy. Let's see who it is."_

_While they ran back up the hill, she didn't realise that she was back home. All she was focusing on was Rue's safety, hoping that no monster or anyone would take her away, like there was danger lurking in the shadows. Of course, there weren't any real shadow, since all there was the sun reflecting on everything – the sea, the trees, the evaporating puddles. It was the first break she had since they stepped in that green glow._

_Immediately, she stopped. "Rue, I don't think we should see them."_

"_Why not?" she asked, her eyebrows arched in concern. "They're only people."_

_She had a nagging feeling that the 'people' on the other side weren't 'people'. "I know, but..."_

"_Please! Quickly! They're shy!" It was like she was eager to go to elementary school – unreasonable, yet cute. So Annabeth grudgingly didn't protest and stumbled after Rue's hand, feeling uneasy._

"_See?" Rue said, letting go of her hand and running up the hill by herself. _

"_No, Rue, wait! –" she shouted, but it was too late. A strong arm snatched her by the waist and grasped his massive hands over her mouth. She could tell she was screaming, but her voice was muffled and her legs were kicking persistently. _

_She sprinted over the hill to see four men, three of them she met before but the other unfamiliar. He was tall, with pale skin that was the colour of snow, maybe even whiter. Wearing a black gown would've looked weird if it weren't for his eyes that were wide and scarlet. His nose were strangely flat but still had nostrils, even if they were just slits. Cold laughter escaped his thin lips. She felt an immense amount of evil just being near him, and this was just one glance._

"_Hi, Annie." She almost forgot to breathe from the shock when she heard his voice. Same sea-green eyes, bronze hair, tanned skin, tall, athletic... "I'm sorry, Annie. I had to, or else –"_

"_Let go of her, Finn," she said, surprised she found her voice. "Don't do this. She's only twelve –"_

"_He had to, Ms Annabeth Chase," President Snow said, stepping next to him. "Just like you need to obey me."_

_Just then, Rue's legs stopped kicking and her eyes weren't lit anymore. Finnick laid her limp body on the tarmac ground, holding back tears. "No!" she screamed, running towards poor Rue._

"_Stop." With that one word, she froze, and so did the world around her. Luke – no, Kronus – appeared right in front of her, an evil, amused smile playing on his lips. "It was a long time since you and your friend defeated me, daughter of Athena. I've grown more powerful, and fighting beside me are people craving for revenge, dying to kill you. Meet me here in the winter solstice. Alone."_

"_Fight me now, if you're feeling brave enough," she managed to say, trying to sound brave – but even she heard a slight tremble in her voice. _

_He laughed. "Someone close to you will betray you, daughter of Athena." _

_A shiver ran down her spine as an image of Percy giving her a dark look crossed her mind. "No. Percy can't... he wouldn't..."_

_He unsheathed his long, stygian iron sword, as Snow held out his gun and the pale man got out a stick. "Think outside the box, Annabeth."_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_***...*...***_

Breathily heaving, she woke up, blinking back her tears. Was Rue OK? Where's Rue? If she wasn't anywhere in sight, then what happened to –

_Oh. It was a dream. _Feeling immensely stupid, she sat up. Ah yes, now she remembered; trees surrounded and hung over her, the sun not even bothering to rise yet. Hermione lay next to her, sleeping soundly, as Harry was sitting down, keeping watch.

"You go to sleep, Harry," Annabeth said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I'll look out."

Before he could protest, his green eyes were already beginning to close. "If you say so," he gave in, smiling slightly and giving a shrug. She offered him the sleeping bag she reluctantly used, and he had to accept. He was obviously exhausted – she could see the tiredness under his eyes, and she couldn't help wondering how he'd look like in three days time.

If he survived until then, that is.

As he began to sleep, she thought about the nightmare she just had. She knew she had to confront Kronus in a couple of month's time – things like that were unavoidable. Only the Fates knew what were in store if Annabeth wouldn't show up to the fight. _Alone_, Kronus emphasized.

If Annabeth was going to be so struck with fear like she was moments ago in the nightmare, what would she do then? Cower away from his wrath and let someone she loved get taken away? She knew by the cold and evil look in Snow, the man she didn't recognise and Kronus' eyes that the consequence was going to be too... _painful_... to even think risking about.

And what did Kronus mean about someone close betraying her? Was it Finnick? If she could feel even more resentment for her mentor, it was now, even if it was just caused by a dream.

But, due to experience, she knew that that dream meant something – although she didn't know yet, which was so frustrating that she almost wanted to pull her hair out.

She looked at Percy, who was tossing and turning around on the hard forest floor. Obviously he was having a bad dream, and she presumed it was a lot worse than hers. He was sweating, his messy dark hair sticking to his forehead. It would've looked cute, almost handsomely manly, if it wasn't for the fact that he was yelping out muffled words like a little girl.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she held back a laugh. He could just picture Lion Crystal hanging his head down in absolute shame, and Thalia collapsing on the floor in hysterical laughter.

"Annabeth!" she heard a female voice call out a strangled whisper. Alarmingly, she looked at Hermione, but all she was doing was sleeping soundly, giving a quiet snore. "Come _on_ – this thing isn't going to hold out for long! Annabeth! _Annabeth!_"

"Annabeth," Percy moaned, making Annabeth shaking her head. Stupid Seaweed Brain acting like his typical self. At least he wasn't having that nightmare anymore, whatever that was about.

"_Annabeth!_" She realised the voice was familiar. _Too_ familiar...

"_No..._" she said in disbelief. She looked up to see one of the few people she had been dying to meet for the previous couple of days.

"Oh. Hey. How's it going?" she said casually.

Annabeth was blinking back tears of happiness. Never had she felt so relieved. "I... uh..."

"You know, I never thought I'd be this glad to see Kelp Head again, but things can happen over time, right?" Annabeth could tell she was being up-beat for a reason. Miraculously, she hadn't changed one bit; the same _'Death over Barbie'_ t-shirt, same spiky black hair, same punk leather jacket...

_Wait... can all of Panem see this? _Worry began to wash over her. _If President Snow saw her skull earrings...!_

Thalia read her mind. "My Lady has planned this IM, so it's all good. But please don't say anything, since the viewers can still hear you and all."

Ever so slightly, she nodded, hoping nobody would notice and lying back on the ground to make it look as if she was admiring the stars.

"Right, listen. A _lot _has changed. Camp is underwater, thanks to, uh –" she glanced at Percy, who was making a disturbing face, scrunching up his nose and giving a loud snore. Thalia rolled her electric blue eyes. "Yeah. _His _dad. I don't have much time, so I'll explain the rest when you both get out."

Annabeth raised both her eyebrows as Thalia sighed. "Annabeth, I know you. You're a daughter of freaking Athena – of _course _you'll figure something out. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but we've all sort of missed you."

Thalia smiled, then her eyes widened. "But don't you _dare _tell Percy that, you hear? He'll think I'm some kind of soft teddy bear! Which I'm not!"

Annabeth laughed, grinning as he crossed her heart. She didn't care if everyone in Panem thought she was going crazy. She was talking – no, seeing – one of her best friends, something she'd most probably never get the chance to do again.

She saw a young hand – probably Artemis's – pat Thalia's shoulders, and telling her something quietly. Thalia's shoulders lowered and surprisingly, Annabeth saw her fighting back tears. "I... I have to go. But you're coming out, OK? For me and..." she paused for a second before finishing her sentence, "and Chiron?"

_Again, with the with-holding information thing! _Annabeth nodded, forcing herself to smile. She gave a reluctant, short wave as Thalia's hand swept across the rainbow.


	17. Chapter 17

**SO sorry that this took ages – and this isn't even that long. There's been loads going on and yes, I did procrastinate a **_**little **_**but that's beside the point. This is a kind of fun chapter, but be warned: it's got swearing. Like, more than usual swearing.**

**But it's Hermione, so let's hope you guys are amused. :D Thanks for the reviews and favourites, etc! Again, sorry for the late update and sorry for the length! **

Chapter 17

**HERMIONE**

"Hermione!" a familiar voice loudly whispered. She woke up to Annabeth's face, who was smiling. She shrieked in surprise as she laughed.

"Annabeth! This is not the time for waking me up – oh." She noticed that the sun was set directly in the middle of the clear-blue sky above. Guilt washed over her. "Annabeth, you should've told me it was my turn. I didn't have that good a sleep myself."

An image of Bellatrix Lestrange wickedly laughing down at her flicked over her mind, but she shook it off. "Ah, don't worry. The other guys aren't all that, um, energetic today, either," Annabeth noted.

"You seem happy," Hermione noticed as the District 4 tribute grinned. "Care to give a reason?"

"Got two reasons, actually," she answered, seating herself on a wooden log. "One I can't discuss about before the other is in motion."

"This isn't like the 'Great Escape' or anything, is it?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea."

She put her hands over her eyes and sighed. "Where's the shovel?" she asked with a sigh. Annabeth laughed.

"I just need to wake up the boys. Want to help?" She jumped out from her seat and practically skipped to Percy, whose mouth was wide open and snoring quietly. Hermione guessed that whatever Annabeth dreamed of last night was obviously something that was fatefully brilliant to bring her out from the depths of sadness to, well... having a spring in her step.

Annabeth put her face right in front of Percy's and blew air in his face. He groaned, moving a little as she repeated. As soon as he opened his eyes, he shouted an almighty "Ah!" and threw her off him.

"Totally deserved it," she said, laughing. Hermione joined her with her fit of giggles – mostly because she had never really heard them before. It clearly pleased Percy to see her emotions in gear instead of having that steely nothing's-going-to-stop-me face, because he broke into a grin.

Hermione decided to just simply wake Harry up. She knew his stubbornness wouldn't really get them anywhere useful. "Harry! Wake up!"

"Shut up, 'Mione," he moaned, opened his eyes slowly, as if realising where he was, then flew up onto his feet. He coughed. "I mean, good morning." He looked at the laughing District 4 tributes and raised his eyebrows. "What's up with them?"

"No clue," she muttered as he smiled. She obviously looked like something that resembled a troll, since he couldn't stop looking at her with arched eyebrows. She coughed, trying to get Percy and Annabeth's attention, and when that didn't work, said loudly, "The plan, Annabeth?"

"Oh yeah," she said, getting up with a final 'aaah'. "It's sounds seriously weird, though – and you might not get a lot of thumbs up for it."

"That's the idea," Harry mumbled.

"Right. Percy." She turned to him, who was lying down like a star fish on the floor and facing the sky. "Badmouth the Capitol."

Almost immediately, he jumped to his feet. "What? Why?"

"Just do it," she instructed.

He sighed. "Okay." He took a deep breath, cupped his hands around his mouth and started shouting at the sky, "President Snow's so stupid, he tried to drown a goldfish! Oh my GODS, don't get me _started_ on how UGLY he is! His face is like a flower – a _cauliflower_. He has a Roman nose – it roams all over his face. And what about those Capitol folks? They're so stupid, they put makeup on their head just to make up their minds!..."

"There goes our sponsors," Hermione mumbled with a longing sigh, looking at Percy and shaking her head.

"...and their _clothes_? Pah! I've seen _fishes _having more style than them!"

"What next?"

"My mom is so going to hate me for this. Right, kids, cover your ears," Annabeth said. Before Hermione could ask how her mother could still be alive, the District 4 tribute started swearing at the top of her voice.

With every word, Hermione flinched and winced inside. Harry glanced at her knowingly – the sound pained her ears – and laughed. She would've thought someone as smart as Annabeth would at least have sophisticated language. "Annabeth!" she scowled; she couldn't bear it any longer. "What are you _doing_?"

"Fu – I'm _cursing_, what do you think I'm doing?"

Percy stopped for a moment and stared at her blankly. "They still curse, right? It isn't extinct, is it?"

"What are you f***ing talking about?" Harry said as Percy burst out laughing.

Horrified, Hermione looked as if everyone had clown wigs on their heads, or devil ears. "_I don't know you anymore_," she murmured.

Harry turned to her, grinning, and she noticed that he and Percy looked a little alike. "Aren't you smart, b**ch?"

"_Harry!_" Her mouth literally dropped to the floor.

"C'mon, guys!" Annabeth cheered, smiling, and three of them continued with their irrational, disgusting, ear-piercingly revolting language.

_So not only are they swearing, but everyone's watching us_, Hermione thought, trying to block them all out. _Though, a little strange for all this time nobody had ever swore before..._

"Oh!" she shrieked in realisation. "You're so... brilliant! How come _I _never thought of it before?"

"'Cause I'm a mother***ing smartass," she answered plainly.

It was to make the Gamemakers beep out their discussion. There were hundreds, thousands of kids out there – they wouldn't make them hear the discussion, would they? And if that didn't work, they had to cut out Percy's badmouthing, therefore cutting out the 'secret discussion'. It was a simple plan – yet Hermione couldn't figure it out. She'd thought that she had to work out what to do _before _all this started.

It was the most awful feeling... being _outsmarted_...


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry about the late update – I've been wondering about ideas and I've lent my friend the Hunger Games book so I couldn't really update on Katniss/Peeta's situation. **

**BUT!**

**Then I had an idea...**

Chapter Eighteen

**THALIA**

She never thought she'd say this, but she was getting tired of immortality.

No, no, she had still loved the thrill of hunting, and the odd security of having a quiver full of arrows slung behind her. That excitement had never vanished, even after all the years. But over time less and less had been happening; less evil occurrences, less demigods, less... game.

They had set up their temporary camp in District 12, in the depths of the woods where nobody dared to set foot in. Out of all the districts, this was by far her favourite, especially in sunny days like these when the sun would peer through the branches and evergreen leaves. It reminded her of Camp Half-Blood, and that even though the world fell apart didn't mean traces of it wouldn't reappear again.

Of course, Artemis stayed the same, loyal and trustworthy leader she was when she first met her. She still had that twinkle in her eye that would remind Thalia of the moon. But nowadays all Artemis set her mind on was hunting down prey for the people to feed. Fortunately, Phoebe was still alive and kicking for Thalia to moan at. Most weren't.

Gradually, because of the people's fear and cowardice of this 'Capitol', they didn't have the guts to sign up to something illegal in case Peacekeepers catch them. She almost wanted to facepalm herself whenever she was in front of them, because they would be safe.

Well, safe from the Law, anyways.

"I'll get some food," she told the Hunters. Now there were only half of what there used to be – and it saddened her slightly. She trudged in a southerly direction as she shouted behind her, "I'll be right back!"

"Thalia, it might be a good idea if you went west!" called Phoebe. "The game isn't there anymore, probably because you freaking killed them all yesterday."

She laughed in reply as she walked right past her, this time in the opposite direction. "Good enough?"

"Perfect!"

***...*...***

She had her eye focused on the deer, not daring to do anything except from hunching her back behind a tree in a ready position. Silently, she retrieved an arrow from her quiver, eyes still fixed firmly on her prey. She gripped her bow readily, arrow pulled back, forcing her breathing to slow down to quieten down her already soundless noise.

The deer's neck gracefully rose from nibbling on some grass, ears up and suspicious. She was almost about to release her fatal blow when she – no, they, the deer included – heard a rustle.

In a flash, her prey was gone, making Thalia let out a groan of annoyance. If she was able to make that shot, that would've –

_Who was that? _

Maybe it was the deer's faun or something? Regaining her hunting posture, she bent low and began to near the general direction she heard the rustling – in this case, behind an oak tree. It was old, probably as old as she, withering, and gnarled at its roots. She felt a pang of jealousy; trees had all the luck – they lived to hundreds of years but still _died_.

When she was half-way around the tree, she saw a large figure suddenly move and fired her bow. The figure ducked and yelped, his netting flying all over the place. "You should be lucky," she snapped, marching to her arrow that pierced the tree that was behind him. "I nearly killed you."

"I nearly killed _you_," he argued, straightening up and dusting off his trousers. He was tall and muscular, with piercing gray eyes, dark hair and tanned skin. She supposed he was attractive, but she was unfazed; bracing herself for a lot of yells, she crossed her arms and popped her hips, trying to give the impression that she was right - wic hich she was.

"With rope?" She held up the net as if it was a piece of junk, while inside she knew that it was intricate and for hunting. The boy was looking at strangely at her t-shirt – which was her famous 'Death to Barbie' shirt (one of the things that she still miraculously had) – and looking at her as if she had three heads.

"You look weird," he said plainly. "You do realise that you're glowing, don't you? You're glowing."

She rolled her eyes. "You obviously know how to chat up a girl," she said sarcastically. "So why are you here? Isn't it illegal to hunt?"

"Same reason you're here, I guess," he answered, snatching back his net. "Hunting."

_Except I'm immortal, and I'm providing for my other immortal buddies. _She bit her tongue, knowing that she could be a bit of an over-confident blabbermouth and blurt out things just to sound better.

"So how come I haven't seen you around?" he said, scratching the back of his head. "Me and Katniss –" his face turned grim, and she guessed it was a subtle subject. Yet she couldn't help thinking about how strange the names were these days. "I always hunt around here," he corrected.

"I stay inside 'cause of my glowiness," she lied matter-of-factly; it was a skill. "It's embarrassing when someone goes, 'Hey! It's Glowy from District 12!'"

He laughed. "Are you finished with, you know, hunting?" He gestured at her bow, which was, unlike his rope, still gripped firmly in her hand. "I can walk you back and we could trade at the Hob."

_Oh no. Stupid, stupid, stupid! _"No thanks."

"We're basically the only two here, and you've already got a rabbit."

"I go alone."

"So did I once, but I didn't get as much done without Katniss," he told her, and she could tell he was sincere.

"Where's Katniss now?"

He looked at her, perplexed. "You don't remember? She volunteered in the reaping. For Primrose."

_A plant saves another plant? Wow! What a miraculous discovery!_ she said with sarcastic enthusiasm, swinging her arm while miming putting her monocle on.

He grew frustrated. "She's a tribute, OK? And she's not dead yet."

"So the Grim Reaper has been visiting, I see," she said jokingly, but even she knew that it was painfully bad. Of course, she knew about the Hunger Games, and about the twenty-four unlucky youthful souls dying on TV every year, but she never really bothered in watching it. Besides, she hardly ever properly went in the district, and even when she did she had to get dressed up, 50s style, to fit in. She was far too preoccupied on walking like a normal person in high heels and feeding starving kids to notice children get slaughtered.

"Well, yes," he said obviously. "The Games started two days ago."

"Oh. OK."

The boy waited for her to go on before realising: "You didn't _watch_?" he said outrageously, pausing for a minute, and then decided to take his investigation further. "You didn't _go_? Are you _insane_?"

"I guess you could say that," she said as if it was just a normal topic of conversation. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going... home." She turned to take a step, but he put a warm hand on her shoulder. She tensed at his touch.

"I'm heading down now. Are you from the Seam?"

"Yes," she said immediately out of panic. _Oh, dear Zeus, _she thought. _What mess have I brought myself into?_

"Okay. Let's go," he said, giving her a smile that would've made other girls drop dead with awe. Honestly, it made her feel a little like that, too, but only on a mild scale. He led her north while pointing out useful places to hunt and lay snares. Of course, Thalia knew all this. Artemis explained it every time they camped here.

"What your name?" she asked as they passed a lake, interrupting him from his advice. It was beautiful, something that was rare to see even in the 21st century. She wondered if anyone dared to swim in it.

"Gale," he said. "Gale Hawthorne."

_Gale... _Now that was a name she recognised. It frustrated her that all she remembered was little children's cries. Maybe he was one of the boys who she fed? She hoped he wasn't – he seemed like a pretty nice guy, and if that fact was true it'd distract her.

She didn't pause in front of the fence in case it would look suspicious to Gale that she was troubled. It occurred to her that this was the first time she had entered District 12 without Phoebe, or any other Hunter. Another sense of worry cursed through her body – what if anyone recognised who she was?

"Do I look okay?" she said, eyebrows raised, as they walked through the meadow. "I mean, the Peacekeepers won't think I'd been in the woods?"

"Cray isn't strict. I'm sure he'll let you off with the crime of bad fashion," he said, receiving a glare. Secretly, she was relieved. In other districts she'd be whipped if anyone saw her like this.

"So this is the Seam," she said. It was a question, but it came out as a statement. _I should have a medal for this_, she thought.

"Yep. Home sweet home." They passed one of the identical houses that had a window looking out to the woods and meadow. A girl with big blue eyes and blonde hair smiled weakly at Gale, who waved. He looked at Thalia, who had a confused expression worn on her face. "That's Prim," he told her, as if that would explain everything in the world.

Now she thought about it, the Seam was a place she visited a lot over the years, feeding families. Despite their efforts, the Hunters couldn't fix the measly problem of starvation; she could see kids with bulging gray eyes and bodies that resembled toothpicks. Even when they didn't breathe, their ribcage would be visible. Sometimes children's cheekbones would stick out unnaturally, and their wails would be constantly heard.

The most unsettling thing was that some adults would see her and their faces would light up with hope. All she could do was nod, hoping her expression would send the message, _I'll come back for you._

"Why are they looking at you like that?" Gale said.

"I do them favours," was all she said as they passed a family that looked like nine or maybe even ten. All of them were dying, she could see.

Not able to bear it any longer, she ran towards them and gave them her rabbit. They needed it more than anyone else by far. "It's not much," she told them. "I'll give you more soon."

The mother, who was carrying a baby and pregnant, gave her a grateful grin. "Thank you so much. I need to give you something." She turned to go back into her house.

"No! Don't do anything. I don't need anything."

"Are you sure?" said a boy, who was about eleven. _Eleven._

"Absolutely." After giving them a smile, she walked back to Gale, whose mouth was in the shape of an 'O'. "What? Do you guys not help each other?"

"No," he said quietly. Silently, they walked further down the Seam. She preferred it when they were talking; it'd distract her from everyone else. Now that she was surrounded with expectations.

She stopped when they arrived at his house. Unlike the others, she could tell she had some sort of relationship with it. Maybe this was why she recognised Gale so much. "Want to come in?" he said, about to open the door.

"Uh..."

"Gale? Is that you?" said a woman's voice. _Oh no. _"Posy's been adventuring all over the place again. Could you –" she opened the door and froze when she saw Thalia, who was giving an awkward wave and smiling.

"Hey, Hazelle."

***...*...***

"But you look the _same_!" Hazelle shrieked.

Thalia felt lucky that they were at the stage of taking this inside, or else it would've made everyone look at them weird. Though she supposed they were used to this type of stuff. After all, they've all been through a lot – an angry lady shouting at an immortal girl shouldn't be the first, right?

"Thanks for noticing," she said. "I have a beauty regime. You see, I don't yell at innocent people."

She put her fists on her hips and looked at her in raged awe. "Unbelievable."

Gale, who had been looking back and forth for the past twenty minutes, looked at his mother confusedly. "What happened?"

"Go tell him, Grace," she said with disgust. "Tell him what you did."

"I didn't do _anything_!" She glared at her, her patience gone and anger replaced. "Did you seriously think I'd stay here forever? It's a big world, Hazelle!"

"Go check on Posy, Gale," Hazelle whispered, sitting herself down on an old, cheap-looking leather couch, her palms resting on her forehead. After a moment's of hesitation, Gale left the room, calling his sister's name.

It was amazing how different she looked. Her gray eyes used to look wild and full of life, whereas now they seemed tired, dull. Thalia remembered when she used to talk bubbly about the many opportunities she'd have after she fought for the right for the Seam to be paid more. She used to smile and laugh, dance around; her long dark curls would bounce around in the air, glistening in the evening sky. She could tell Hazelle was let down with the depressing let down of having no way out of her situation.

"I still don't know why you left," she said after a few moments of silence. "We were desperate, you know. I had a baby coming."

"I wanted to stay, okay?" It just occurred to Thalia how bad she was at having these extremely serious conversations. "The Hunters had to go. You know how it goes."

"Of course I do. I did come with you at one time, after all."

"But you fell pregnant."

"Yeah," she said in a high tone, looking up at Thalia with kept-in rage, "with Gale."

She nodded. Of course, she knew all of this. Hazelle leaving the Hunters were the worst thing that ever happened to them in a long time – and the flames roared back inside her. "And you betrayed us! You should count yourself lucky you're even _alive_, that she was in a merciful mood," she paused, inhaling and exhaling in a quicker pace, like she always was when she was infuriated. " And you're yelling at _me_ –"

"For falling in love?" she finished. "We were best friends back then, almost sisters! You promised me you'll help me get through this."

"I didn't promise anything." Thalia resisted the urge to pace around the room like a typical Sherlock Holmes would.

"Are you sure?"

"Listen," she said with haste. "I've lived in this world for hundreds of years. I've seen it fall apart, I've seen the hurricanes and tsunamis _and _I've seen loads of guys naked! But do I get myself pregnant?" She paused. "No!"

Hazelle laughed. "Despite the seriousness of it all, you've got to put it out like it is."

She ignored her. "I'm just as loyal as I was five hundred years ago, maybe even more." Her eyes were blurred with tears, more frustrated tears than anything else. "I _wanted _to stay with you and help you with your son. But I can't just break a promise that I've held for centuries."

There was a long silence after that. The two didn't know what else to say. Thalia didn't know just how much impact she made on Hazelle's life, vice versa.

"So you're still not watching the Games?" she asked. It almost made Thalia jump in surprise; it was so out of turn. She nodded in reply. "Thank God. This year's isn't easy for any of us. Gale's friend volunteered."

"Oh. Well. That's a shame." She never was the sympathetic person, even in tragic things like this. She just didn't see the point.

"She's good and skilled, like Gale is. Good at hunting. Though there's a lot of competition. We're all afraid for her." And she was. Thalia could tell.

"Katniss, isn't it?" Hazelle raised her eyebrows in surprise, making Thalia tut. "Still not expecting me to know stuff, aren't you?"

"Like always," she said, giving a snarky smile.

Thalia continued, "So how come Katniss has competition? She sounds like a good competitor, right?"

"District 1, 2 and the boy from town, Peeta, are the Careers. They might win," she said, not with the enthusiasm that the Capitol has but in an expressionless unfortunate way.

_Might. _More like 75%, from what she heard over the years. "Why aren't 4 with them?"

"Oh, they're weird," she said. "The girl has a way with knives, and is pretty. But the _boy... _he made a huge wave sweep over District 2's female."

_No... _"What were their names?" she said alarmingly.

"Annabeth and Percy. Why?"

And with that, she raced out the door.


	19. Chapter 19

**OH MY GOD GUYS I AM SOOOO SORRY! **

**There really is no excuse for keeping you guys waiting so long. I was **_**going **_**to do an Author's Note chapter thing that some folks do on here, but I decided otherwise, since it seriously frustrates me when people do that. It's **_**trickery**_**. Sick, sick trickery.**

**Only joking. But yeah. Thanks for staying with me, guys, and I hope this makes up for the annoying weeks of nothing for this story! Though I doubt it. **

**But enjoy, anyway! :D**

Chapter Nineteen

**PERCY**

Everywhere he went, he felt the cameras trained on him. He couldn't help looking around, all self-conscious, to make him look more busy and aware than he actually was. Annabeth would throw him questioning looks, whilst Hermione would give him understanding ones, saying something real assuring like, "It's okay. We have your back."

"Thanks," he'd reply, feeling his face heat up. Yet despite his error, he kept on looking around.

Why? Because of the freaking _cameras._

Obviously, it wasn't just that. The nagging fear on having to kill someone much like himself kept on crossing his mind. Yeah, he was used to slay monsters and maybe kill a Titan from time to time, but what did they do to deserve this?

He still felt the weight on his shoulders after a long day of setting snares and getting some meat. The sun was on the verge of setting, hiding behind the vast canopy of pine trees, giving calm atmosphere. So far they'd received two squirrels, which would give them at least a day and a half of food. At least they weren't dying of natural causes yet, which was surprising since Percy didn't really attend to any of the survival stations.

_Guess that's what it does to you when you got smart girls in your team_, he supposed.

Their covered fire was burning steadily in the middle of the four, sparks dancing. The cackles oddly assured him, despite fire being the opposite of his father's domain. It reminded him of Hestia and her heath, making him smile.

Not wanting to dwell on the past, he decided to tune in on the conversation his allies were having. "...do we attack?" Annabeth asked.

"I thought you said –" Hermione started.

"I know what I said." A flash of frustration came across her eyes. "It's just... we need to start thinking of what to do next, okay? We can't just stand here and do nothing. We need to, you know, start knocking people off."

"That's the Career's job," Harry grumbled. Percy couldn't help laughing, in result receiving glares.

"She's right," Hermione huffed. "We need to go on a killing spree."

"If we're going to do it, night's the best chance we have," Harry suggested. "Nobody will catch us that way, as long as we're quiet."

Percy froze. "Wait, you were serious?" Silence answered his question for him, a storm brewing inside him. "You can't really expect to... to _kill_ people?"

He could almost hear the crowds of the Capitol screaming, "YES!"

Annabeth stood up and looked down on him like never before, almost scaring him. "If that's what it takes to win, then yes. I want to go _home_, Percy. I thought you'd understand –"

"I want to go home, too. But we both know _that_ can't happen," he said, standing and taking a step forwards. "At least I'm not starting _killing_ people just because of some false hope."

"False hope?" She laughed, making his blood boil. This was not like Annabeth. At all. "I'd have thought you knew what hope is."

Even she knew she took it a step too far. Of course he knew what hope was – he saw it himself. He remembered how determined he was to keep it, even when times were hard. But that was when there was a possible victory to be won, for his friends, for camp, for Olympus. For something _worth_ winning for.

Percy didn't even plan on winning. He would do anything in order for Annabeth to get out of this thing alive. No doubt, she was able to herself; the look in her eyes changed to a gleam of evil, and the way she looked at him was like he was nothing anymore.

It was slowly tearing him apart.

"I do," he said quietly, staring intensely into her eyes. Those grey icicles turned to their usual cloudy storms, if only for a second, which reassured him a little – yet not making him any more calmer.

She entreatingly began, stepping forwards, "Percy –"

"I'm going for a walk," he said hoarsely.

Hermione, who, along with Harry, stayed silent throughout the whole argument, butted in, "Now, we all know that's an awful idea."

"I'm _going _for a walk," he demanded.

"Then I'm coming with you." To his surprise, it was Harry that leaped up. Green with green met, a silent battle between them. He knew somehow that Harry was just as powerful as he was, with what he wasn't sure.

But before the District 8 tribute could even start to make his way with Percy, he snapped, "No."

He needed to be alone with his thoughts, his anger, his... whatever else it was that was making him feel as confused as he was. His palms were sweating as he was walking in a straight line towards the north. At times he pulled on his hair in aggravation – at Annabeth, he didn't know. Not anymore, now that he was away.

He missed the days when they'd forget about schedules and just spend time together. When, despite how irritated he'd get, gods and other mythical creatures interrupted their dates. When he'd humiliated himself and she'd laugh. When she'd teasingly call him names.

Not... not this. Not when she'd pretend that she was calling it over just because she denied his loyalty. Not when her eyes would turn cold. Not when she'd be forced into prostitution. Not when they'd fight to the death and may have to kill _each other._

He tried to think of other normal things, like if Family Guy was still on, or... or where he'd –

Oh, dear gods. Where would he – you _know_... pee? He couldn't exactly go there, on the spot, since that'd be unhygienic, and he didn't have a spare set of clothes. It'd be SO humiliating if a tribute walked in, about to kill him and caught him in a nearby shrub having a number two or something. They'd be like, "Oh! OH! I am SO sorry. I'll just, uh... I'll just come by and kill you later. Heh... bye!"

And what if they saw his –

_OKAY. _Maybe fearing for his relationship and survival was more normal than fearing for... yeah...

He realised how stupid he was being. Sulking alone in a vast arena with 15 teenagers having the intention to kill you. _Look on the bright side_, he told himself. _You _did _have the sense to go in a straight line._

He could picture the Stoll twins by his side and pointing at him, announcing, _'We've got a smartass over here!'_

Maybe _he_ was the one being unrealistic? Was he lying to himself to convince him in some way? He was just so desperate to see his mom, Paul, Grover, Chiron, Thalia, the Stolls, even the terrifying monsters to some extent. He was frustrated that his world was out of reach.

He craved for something that was real. Something that wasn't linked to wacky people who liked to watch kids die, cruel pensioners, cowardly mortals and Panem. Something that anchored him back to the period he _belonged_ in. In America.

Besides – he couldn't _afford _to be walking around if he was going to save Annabeth. He couldn't _afford _to be brainless. He couldn't _afford _to be thinking about stupid things.

He needed to die.

Preferably, now.

He stopped to a halt. Trembling, he dug his hand into his deep trouser pocket and took out his pen. Feeling his breaths getting faster and faster, he uncapped his pen and felt a small smile creep onto his face as it grew into a glorious luminous sword. Maybe he _did _have something to hang on to, at least.

But Annabeth was his first priority now – and his last.

Desperately trying to steady his breathing, he held out his wrist and was about to slice it when he heard a rustling.

He didn't even bother going in stealth mode. Shaking it off, he resumed to his activity. Resuming his ending stance, he lifted his sword, his lungs finally stopping the strange, frantic breaths. The sword was going down, all slow motion –

"What are you doing?"

With a yelp, his aim went astray and ended up slicing two layers of skin off his palm. Scowling, he turned around to see no one there.

"I'm up here," said a relaxed feminine voice in a harsh loud whisper.

"Oh," he said, returning the calmness despite the fact that he was attempting to end his life moments before. He looked up, seeing a little thin shadowed figure lying in one of the tall tree's thick branches. "Hey."

"Where's your district partner?" she asked curiously, meaning Annabeth. "I thought she was your ally."

"I wanted some time alone." The slim figure seemed to have shrugged, her legs dangling off the edge. "So why are you up there?"

"Wanted to be safe, I guess."

He nodded. "So... who are you?" he asked casually. Despite recognising a little trace of her voice, he had difficulty placing it with a name.

"Katniss," she said. "Katniss Everdeen from District 12." She shifted in her place, tilting her head down to face him. "You're Percy, right? From District 4?"

"Yep," he answered. "That's me."

He felt her grin at him, nodding to his hand. "How'd you manage to find that thing?"

It wasn't until then that he was conscious of the fact that the sword was still in full size, the gash in his hand was stinging painfully and the sun was eventually rising in the horizon. Had he really been thinking for that long? "What thing?"

"That sword your holding. The big gold thing," she said.

Almost as quickly as she said it, his shrunk it back into size and stuffed it in his pocket. Natural habit, he supposed, to try and make people like him forget to protect them. He still wasn't sure if monsters still existed. Hiding his inner shock of realisation of just what Katniss was, he said lightly, "What big gold thing?"

"That – doesn't matter," she sighed. He smiled smugly – he won. (Hehehe.)

"Are you coming down?"

She laughed quietly. "Not planning to, no."

"You can trust me, you know," he assured. Because she could – he still wasn't planning on going on a murderous rampage, no matter what anyone said.

"I do. It's just –" she stopped. He crossed his eyebrows as he heard a crackling noise. "Do you hear that?"

He nodded. "What is –" His face went from curious into a scary realisation. "Fire," he murmured. "Katniss, come down! We've got to go!"

By the time he said it she was already half-way down the tree. Gods, she was fast, but not fast enough; the fire was advancing.

"Come on," he shouted, breaking into a run. "Come _on!_"


	20. Chapter 20

**I hope you forgive me now that I've given you Chapter 20! It's not even been a week and **_**two chapters**_**! Wow. That should be, like, a world record for me :P**

**Heh. Thanks for the reviews and everything, you guys are the best :)**

Chapter Twenty

**PERCY**

You know before when he seemed to like fire before?

Yeah, he took it all back as soon as a tree nearly flattened him like it did on one episode of Tom & Jerry. Roaring flames were advancing towards him, like he was its prey – which, of course, he was. The heat was intoxicating, even with his sweaty top clasped around his mouth and nose, and especially now that he was sprinting behind Katniss's fast steps, sweating and panting like a dog. He almost wanted to laugh; the wolves that seemed to be natural shot off without a single intake of breath.

Percy nearly bumped into his new sort-of friend when she stopped to take her jacket off. He was about to ask why in an impolite way when he saw a bit of it burning. She stamped on it for a few minutes when he caught sight of the fire nearing them again, and he impatiently mumbled, "It's okay. Let's go."

After hurriedly packing the coat in her bag, he gripped her small wrist and pulled her back into a sprint. The smoke had started to infect both their lungs, and Percy felt as if it was about to crumble into ashes for inside him. Resisting the pain, they continued until they caught site of a huge sheltered rock, and leaned against it, crouching. He closed his eyes and tried to make himself focus as he heard vomit coming from the side of him, trying to will himself not to himself; it would waste time.

"One minute to rest," Katniss breathed, gasping and letting her t-shirt collar fall against her collarbone again, "then we'll go."

He didn't argue. Going back to the direction of the lake and the cornucopia was something he did _not _want to do. Or in general, where the fire was kicking him out to. _Damn you Gamekeepers_, he thought, _and your freaky but cool ways of killing people._ _Did you, like, watch the Die Hard movies _seventy times_ or something?_

On the contrary, what particularly freaked him out was when a ball of fire shot the rock just centimetres from Katniss's head. Their eyes widened into saucers, staring at the burnt circle for a second and looking at each other for instructions. Deciding that the two of them were thinking the same thing – _run! – _they broke into a sprint again, only to fall back on their stomachs to avoid getting hit to another massive ball of artificial fire. With a groan, he stood up but had to fall to the ground again. The process repeated countless times, annoying him further and further. His eyes were stinging and his lungs were agonizingly painful, his face covered in scratches, ashes and bruises from the sticks that grazed along his cheeks. Both of them were getting tired to the point when he wanted to collapse.

They forced to stop when they felt something acidic crawling along their throats and noses. It was Percy who noticed the hiss of the fireball coming towards them and shouted, "Duck!" as he flattened himself to the ground narrowly. He felt the heat on his back as the fireball flew ahead. Guessing by the big yelp, she was too late and had suffered a burn. Shrieking and panicking, she stared at it in horror. "Katniss!" he yelled, triggering her sense and rolled her leg along the forest floor to stop the flame.

He couldn't help but laugh at how ironic it was. "Katniss, the girl on fire," he said in dramatic amazement, just to tease. She was a little busy with the pain to shoot back a glare, and he felt a bit disappointed, despite the cloud of smoke threatening to kill them. Realising this, his heroic instincts came over him when he grabbed her arm and slung it round his muscular shoulder, helping her hobble their way out of the grey with some renewed urgency.

At least the flames weren't following them anymore, which meant that another tribute – or tributes – was around. He resisted the urge to suck in intake of air; was it Annabeth, Harry and Hermione that was nearby? They had to have been affected by the fire, since they were behind them when it struck. He hadn't heard any cannons, but that might've been because of the cackles of the fire.

Although his eyesight was blurry, he caught sight of an ankle-deep pond and his mood had changed. His savour, his power source – though not directly from the sea, it would probably prove helpful. He guided Katniss to the pond and immediately she delved her hands into the water, splashing her face.

He smiled, doing the same, feeling a rush of energy pulsing through his veins as soon as he felt the cold reassuring water around his skin. "Here," he said softly to Katniss, grabbing hold of her knee, feeling her tense beside him.

"Forgot you were here," she said nervously, yet she still straightened her legs so he could study the burn on her calf. It was quite deep, and he positively couldn't heal it completely, but it was worth a try; he put one of his hands out from the water and touched the injury with it. "What are you –" she barked before stopping herself and feeling the soothing water trickle from his fingertips. A relieved sigh escaped her lips.

"Better?" he asked, an eyebrow raised and grinning.

She looked at him, half-horrified, half-thankful, making him laugh. "Yes," she said with a nod.

The blisters were slowly disappearing and the murderous red had lightened a little. Deciding it was the best he could do, he took his hand away from the flesh. "I can't heal it completely, though. Some cream would help _a lot_," he said the last part slightly louder, looking at the sky expectantly. No point in being polite when they deliberately tried to burn them to pieces.

Despite his efforts, Katniss couldn't help slip her calf and hands in the pond every few seconds to avoid any pain. He offered some leftover squirrel that he had in his bag that Hermione insisted everyone should have and she agreed. They watched the sun starting to set, and he concluded that Katniss wasn't a very talkative person. He was bored out of his mind – the ADHD really not helping.

Undoubtedly, they'd get hunted down by the Careers at some point, but the same thought ran through their minds; _Let them find me._

And so they did. Some heavy, some light, footsteps were heard by Katniss first, who instantly stood up and ran away, expecting him to follow. Of course, he did, hearing their raspy laughs and giggles of joy. _They are messed up, _he thought. His heartbeat ringing in his ears, a minute passed of breathless scurrying away when they reached a massive tree.

He couldn't help smiling inwardly. Katniss was already up there in a matter of seconds, although being delayed a little by her welted hands and injured leg. His hands were too, which only slowed him down by a massive scale. Even at camp, he wasn't the best at climbing, but in the end he did make it next to her on a thick branch.

When he looked down, there they were, smirking evilly at them. Cato being the usual arrogant leader that Percy despised with a passion, Clove as his little servant, Glimmer as the queen of it all, Marvel being, well, Marvel, and –

_Peeta? _He wanted to yell. In training, he seemed like a general nice, loyal person to hang around with. And now he was with _them_? The guy was purposefully not looking into either of them, too ashamed, which only spurred his feeling of distrust further.

It was like _Star Wars_ all over again.

Katniss was probably feeling the same – he saw it in her eyes. But she dismissed it and smiled at them. "How's everything with you?"

Hah.

To add to the effect, Percy raised his hand and moved his fingers in a 'Hullo!' way, with a goofy grin. It felt _good _to be higher than them.

They raised their eyebrows in surprise, looking taken aback. "Well enough," Cato replied. "You?"

"It's been a bit warm for my taste," she said, looking around her.

"Lovely weather, isn't it?" Percy asked. "Burning hot."

Katniss nodded, giving him a playful look. "Shame to spend it in the shade, though."

"Positively."

"But the air's better up here," she called, looking down on the Careers who evidently looked pissed off, except from Peeta who looked out of place. "Why don't you come up?"

"I think I will," the District 2 boy said with a huff.

Glimmer handed him her silver boy. "Here, take this, Cato," she said softly, ignoring the glare that Katniss shot her.

"No, I'll do better with my sword."

"Because I didn't defeat you in training or anything," Percy couldn't help blurt out, Katniss bursting outright with laughter. He even spotted Clove and Peeta suppress a smirk. Deciding to wash that smirk off his face, he spat at Peeta, "I'm surprised you even thought the guy was _good_."

Mission accomplished. Except Cato was now furious, heaving with rage, and stormed his way to the base of the tree. _Woops._

Katniss first, they scurried up the tree, now about ten metres above the ground. He heard something significant hit the ground hard and when they stopped climbing, he glanced down to see a rather small-looking Cato wheezing.

It was Glimmer's turn to try, but she had the sense to stop when she felt the branches crack. She shot a couple of arrows and the nearest she could get was an arm's reach away. "I forgot how bad you were at archery," Percy muttered loudly enough for them to hear as Katniss retrieved the arrow and waved it teasingly.

Gods, even _he_ knew they were annoying.

"Oh, let them stay up there," Peeta snapped. "It's not like they're going anywhere. We'll deal with them in the morning."

The rest of the night was rather quiet after that. A few mumbles and murmurs from the Careers were heard, and some last tweets from the birds, but that was all. Neither Katniss nor Percy could even shut their eyes – Katniss with her pain, and Percy with his worry. Was Annabeth alright? Did she get any burns?

His feet dangling unsupported in the air, he noticed in the corner of his eyes that Katniss was shifting. He turned his neck to face her, his eyebrows arched, and was about to ask what was wrong when he saw her staring behind him.

Turning back to see what she was looking at, he saw a pair of golden eyes.

_Rue._


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey! I didn't desert you for two months this time! :P**

**Thanks for all the support, as always, and I'll let you know that a load of unveiling happens in this chapter. But I did really enjoy writing this!**

**Yeah, I decided on a little Thalia again! I didn't actually realise how much I love writing her POVs, so I'll probably throw in her chapters every once in a while.**

**So, without further a due, viola! **

Chapter Twenty-One

**THALIA**

"Turn the TV on!" she yelled at him. "Turn it on _now_!"

Maybe she shouldn't have been so harsh on the guy. After all, he had hard times in his life, too – she could see it in his eyes and the tired hard-done by look he gave her. She should have been grateful for him to be beside her throughout all the years.

It was funny, she noticed; when she first met him she'd never have thought that he'd be the only thing that anchored her and kept her steady. Although far apart sometimes, he was like her partner – not _that _type of partner, thank you – one of her few sanctuaries from the times she savoured.

But right now, she was a _little _worried about her friends that were on the verge of complete and utter _death _right now.

He looked around the cabin. "Thalia, we don't have a television in this room," he said.

"Then frigging _get one_!" she shrieked. "This is _urgent_, okay? Please. For the first time in centuries I don't know what to do. I mean," she started hyperventilating, gesturing at herself, "I'm a _wreck_!"

"Calm down!" he scolded. "Just hold up, OK? Breathe." She did what she was told, and he smirked proudly at himself. "And the King strikes again."

She rolled her eyes.

"Thus we have Thalia," he chirped. "So, General, what's the problem?"

She took a deep breath, having no time to scowl at him for calling her that. This was going to take some explaining. "It's Annabeth and Percy."

Just like that, he froze. His eyebrows knotted, his crazy hazel eyes turning into ones filled with fear, and he tugged at his black curls with his long fingers. "You mean –"

"Yes," she breathed, closing her eyes. _Collect yourself_, she told herself. _Don't cry. _"It's happening."

"_Di immortales_," was all he could come out with. "It's been a long time."

"We have to get them out," she begged, her voice quietening and opening her blue electrical orbs. "I don't care about the Capitol and their sick rules anymore, alright? I don't. And I knowAnnabeth like the back of my hand. She'll kill herself to get Percy back, vice versa."

"We've got Nico –"

"Nico smicko," she scrunched her nose. "He loves death so much, it's like he's married to it. He won't let us get away with it."

"He did once," he said. "With a wizard guy, remember?"

"Yeah, but that was ages ago," she dismissed, remembering a young Nico mention to her about the magical world once or twice. It truly was unbelievable how many things a little boy could come across if he wandered around America for long enough. "That was a one off."

He sighed, his eyes widening as he sat back on his chair. Despite the cruelness of it all, immortality still blew her mind; he still looked like the same Latino boy he was hundreds of years ago. This was one of the two reasons why he was so reassuring. The second, of course, being that his personality was left unscathed.

Which was both a good thing and a bad thing.

"Who've you told?" he said after a few minutes of bewildered silence.

"You're the first."

"Why, Grace, I am touched," he said dramatically, a hand on his heart. "Really. I am."

"Actually, I was planning on telling Chiron, but as you were snooping around with his stuff –"

"I was not _snooping_!" he acted again. "Thalia, I am hurt. _Hurt._"

"Wait," she said in realisation. "A wizard. What was his name?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. All I know was that some other old wizard called Albus told him to with some spells."

"Oh," she deflated. No dead guy was going to do her any help. "Damn Nico and his mysterious ways."

He laughed, shaking his head and squeezing his fingers between the top of his nose as if he had glasses. "You are _so _going to run out of coins by the rate you're going."

"Shut up," she said playfully, realising that he was making her more laid back. "And stop making me relax! I've got things to do!"

"Yes, you do. Besides, Hazel's probably going to kill me if I stay here any longer," he grinned. "Oh, how I live the life."

"Eh. Live and let live, I guess," she said dismissively, breaking out with a quick grin before returning to her almost-permanent blank expression. "Better go. Bye, Valdez."

"Adios," he said in a disappointing Spanish accent, saluting her with a smirk. She broke the Iris Message by waving a hand across his face with a sigh.

_You are SO going to get wrinkles if you don't stop being so stressed all the time_, Selena's voice rang in her head as she wiped a hand down her tired face. She wished deaths of people she cared about would quit being in her head – she didn't want to have schizophrenia or anything.

Guess the whole Hunters-can't-be-ill deal was reassuring, on top of everything else.

She supposed she should've been grateful. The gods were still beside her, with a couple of immortalized demigods – and most of all, Jason. Thank Zeus she didn't lose him a second time, or else she would've given up long ago.

Even though he was basically the same age as her, he was her driving force. She wanted to be there for him if anything happened.

Not like he couldn't handle anything. Like, on a good day, he'd look like Thor on a Friday. Without the, you know, longer hair and the retarded helmet.

What were those wings on either side of his helmet for, anyway? It wasn't like they could support his whole body in flight.

Shaking her thoughts off, she checked her surroundings in case any mortals came in. Unfortunately, due to a stubborn Hazelle, she was forced to stay because Gale had decided to blurt out that she was staying at the woods when she came back a second time to watch the Games.

At least, his siblings were OK – especially his little four year-old sister, Posy. She was by far the sweetest and the most naive person she had ever met. "You're really pretty," the little girl said. Although Thalia would've normally scowled and snapped something mean, she couldn't help but coo.

The stupid kid was cute, she had to hand it to her. It turned out that the reason why she took a liking to Posy so much was that she was so oblivious to the hell she was living in.

She bit her lip in wonder, thinking of a way to make a rainbow, before spotting a class rectangular see-through glass box. Using a mirror, the light of the sun bounced off the mirror and through the glass, thus making a rainbow. "O Iris, goddess of rainbow, please accept my offering," she muttered, and to her delight, it worked. She flipped her coin and told the rainbow the location where Nico was – the Underworld.

Immediately, Nico showed up, his face surprised from the sudden appearance of Thalia but then masked his face in a serious manner. Before he got granted immortality, he got quite muscular and tall, his face not being quite as rounded but more masculine. To put it short – he was hot. But he was still the same Nico, which added to the reason why Thalia was eternally going to be single.

He grunted, "What now?"

The worry came over her again just as quickly as it went, her eyebrows arched and biting her lip. "It's Percy and Annabeth," she said, deciding not to stall like last time.

His face suddenly whitened and commanded his guards and dead souls to leave his new dark Underworld palace, sitting down on one of the dark couches. His fingers began to shake as they raked through his hair, which still in needed of a haircut and ragged. "Where are they?"

"Hunger Games."

"Shit," he breathed. "Are they okay?"

"Oh yeah. Fine. Just fighting for their lives and inevitably going to _die soon_," she spitted. "Nico, if one of them dies, bring them back. Like you did with that wizard guy or whatever."

"Thalia, it doesn't work like that –"

"Who cares! This is the lives of heroes that saved your life multiple of times!" she snapped.

"They didn't think of that when they left us, did he?" he barked back.

She stayed silent after that.

"They both left us to fend for ourselves, Thalia," he said quietly. "It's _them _that made the world the way it is. It's time we let fate take its course."

"Nico –"

"No!" he yelled sternly, but his voice was quavering a little. "Enough."

"The mist!" she argued. "The mist wasn't their fault!"

"The mist didn't do _anything_!" he growled. "It was her damn curiosity that killed us, that killed _him_."

Of course she knew what he was talking about. It was something that no one ever talked about it, especially for herself and Hazel. It was a reason to blame Annabeth and Percy for everything even more.

But he never should have died that year. Even Thalia knew that.

"What about the wizard guy?" she said after moments of silence. "You told me about him once."

"Everything would've been hell if I didn't revive him, you know that," he told her like a teacher would, even though she had no clue whatsoever of this information. "But I can't save them if hell's already here, can I?"

Gods, he was smart, too. And she hated him for it.

"A dead man called Dumbledore came to me," he continued when she didn't have anything to say. "He told me about his world. It had wands and robes and magic, and he owned a school to teach spells. Apparently the whole school was at war the same time Camp Half-Blood was."

"Suspicious."

"Yeah, I thought so, too. But then he started to talk about this guy called Voldemort, who started killing loads of wizards and witches. And if a boy named Harry Potter didn't go back to save his world... well, it wouldn't be a nice place."

Harry Potter? She swore she heard that name before. As she searched her mind, he carried on, "So when I saw him, he thought I was this Dumbledore person. It was quite funny seeing him all confused. But then the Dumbledore guy came over and talked to him, something about a Platform 9 and ¾. In the end, I just had to let Potter back."

She gasped. "Oh my gods!" she exclaimed. "Harry Potter... he's in the Games."

* * *

**AND SO THE HARRY POTTER AND HEROES OF OLYMPUS UNVEILING BEGINS!**

**I know that before I said that I'm not going to involve Heroes of Olympus in this, but I just thought it'd be a bit weird without them there, so sorry to those of you that don't really like the new series.**

**Uhh... thanks for reading, I guess! :D**

**-Elphie**


	22. Chapter 22

**ANNABETH**

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked her, her eyebrows nit and looking down at her. She was sitting on the forest floor and applying some cream that had been sent down moments before to her ankles and left arm.

"Seems the sponsors didn't forget about us," Harry commented. He had scratch marks all over his face, and even some blue smudged on his forehead from some blueberries that he ran into. "Feeling better, then?"

"Fine," she winced, a stab of pain piercing through her arm when a finger came in contact with the burn.

To be honest, she did deserve it. After how she treated Percy, she knew it had to be some time when the guys in charge had to intercede and take her away from her dwelling thoughts.

She felt like someone she wasn't, when she spat all those things to him. Perhaps he was right – maybe her mind couldn't comprehend that she couldn't figure a way out. She felt sick, horrible... she still did.

Except having some seriously painful burns here and there to add onto it, but oh well.

"Here," Hermione offered, getting a swelling hand and delving it onto the pot. She rubbed the mixture on the wound, and Annabeth clenched her teeth together until she was done.

"Hey, 'Mione?" Harry was staring at the floor in a perplexed expression written on his face, scratching the back of his head.

"Hm?"

"Could you, err..."

"I'm in the middle of healing a friend, Harry," she snapped, and Annabeth couldn't help but smile at how normally weird she was.

"Just come take a look at this, it'll only take a minute," he told her. She sighed, getting up and rubbing the goo in her hands to fix her burns as she strode to where Harry was.

She gasped. "How did – that can't – just... no..." she babbled.

Annabeth suspected it was some kind of rare caterpillar that they obsessed over or something. Suppressing a laugh, she asked, "What is it?"

Harry bent down and picked quite a long, smooth stick. He grinned. "What are the odds?" he murmured, shaking his head.

"We can actually go," she whispered.

"Dunno know if we could," he said, just as quietly. Annabeth crossed her eyebrows, but decided not to ask. "Wouldn't know where to go."

"I could work it out," she assured. "Where we were before –"

"They'd catch us," he said so gently that it was almost impossible to hear.

Her eyes filled up with tears as she bit her lip, shaking her head. She snatched the stick and fiddled around with it with her fingers, looking everywhere but Harry and Annabeth, as if she was trying to be alone thinking.

"Are you okay?" Annabeth asked, not knowing what else to say. Of course she knew she wasn't okay, but she couldn't stay silent.

A watery laugh escaped Hermione's lips as she made her way back to Annabeth's side. "Fine," she answered, wiping her eyes and delving her hands back into the tin of gel.

***...*...***

The three couldn't shut their eyes that night. Although Harry suggested they took shifts, Annabeth declined. It didn't take a genius to realise how empty it seemed not to have her Seaweed Brain there to cheer everyone up, and the stick definitely added to the mood.

She wondered where he was now. Alone, probably, sleeping. Maybe he'd do better without her to worry about... but he liked to think that he'd always find his way back to her in the end.

Who was she kidding? The things she said were stupid, something that wouldn't be suddenly forgiven for. After that, she hoped he would never change like she did. She wouldn't be able to hang on if he did.

He was her rock, or whatever poetic mortals say. And it seemed pretty pathetic when she thought about it, wishing for Percy to come back. But she needed him.

Like a needle needs a thread. Or... or like a nail needs a hammer. She just couldn't function properly without him.

With these thoughts, her eyes gradually started to droop, and before she knew it, she got dragged into blackness.

***...*...***

"Annabeth!"

She woke up to see an alarmed Harry and Hermione looming on top of her face. "What?" she croaked.

"I think Percy just went past," Harry said, and Annabeth leaped up. "Follow me!"

Through twists and turns, they sprinted without stopping until they saw him stumbling onto his knees. "Percy!" she yelled. Despite being exhausted, she sped past the other two and helped him get back on his feet.

"Annabeth," he said groggily. "Why are there snakes on the floor?"

She looked around and crossed her eyebrows. "There aren't any snakes, Percy," she confirmed.

"There is! There's one, slithering across your legs!" he yelped, standing up and tripping over his feet a couple of steps away, landing hard on his back. "Oh, what pretty sunflowers," he mused, looking around him. "Haha! Look, it's like I'm doing _snow angels_!"

"Oh my gods," she laughed as the leaves ruffled beside his moving arms and legs.

"Really!" he assured her. "And –" he cried out in agony. "THAT HURTS!"

"What does?" she asked, running to his side as he curled himself into a ball. "Percy?" She realised that he had knocked himself out. Turning to Hermione, she said, "Do you...?"

"Well, judging by the nasty spots," she declared, walking over to them and examining his state, "he probably got stung by something. Maybe a mutt."

"Tracker jackers," Harry said. "Johanna said something about that."

"Yeah, he'll have some weird hallucinations," Hermione said as Annnabeth looked at Percy, her eyebrows crossed in concern. "He only has a couple, so it won't be long until he recovers... hopefully."

"Hopefully?"

"Well, Johanna didn't go into too much depth about it," she snapped.

"What type of hallucinations?"

"Mostly scary ones," Harry answered. "Not nice."

But Annabeth knew that it wasn't the worst thing that he had went through. After all, at least he wasn't on the edge of Tartarus, or holding up the sky, or getting lost in the confusing and dangerous Labyrinth, or leading a war.

He was back... even if he wasn't exactly awake yet.

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews and everything, guys, as usual! Sorry if the chapter's a little short, and if the wait was a little long... but oh well! :P**


	23. Chapter 23

**OH MY GAWD. 200 REVIEWS?! FF-WHAAAT?! Thanks SO much guys! I just ... AAGHH**

**I realised that I should do more disclaimers, and there's LOADS of stuff in this chapter that I should disclaim, so:**

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, OR THE PERCY JACKSON/HEROES OF OLYMPUS OR THE HARRY POTTER SERIES, DESPITE MY CONSTANT NAGGING TO THE WISHING STAR.**

**There. :D**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

**PERCY**

"Percy, let me go."

He looked down to see a very pale Annabeth, who was hanging freely to a never-ending hole of black. His grip on her wrist was tight and the effort it took for him to hold onto a ledge that resembled one of a book shelf was so excruciating he began to lose feel of his fingertips. After one glance at the situation – white above him with yells and orders, and an Alice In Wonderland hole – he didn't let go.

He _couldn't_ let go.

"You can't pull me up," Annabeth croaked, her jaw set with pain.

"Never," he told her without hesitation. But that was all he was consciously able to say, as he focused above him to see a very desperate Nico and light. He didn't even know what he was saying when he shouted, "The other side, Nico! We'll see you there. Understand?"

His eyes widened. "But –"

"Lead them there!" he was ordering. Who? "Promise me!"

"I – I will."

_Sacrifices_, a dark voice laughed from below, making Percy's stomach churn. _Beautiful sacrifices to wake the goddess._

He didn't like how he was so clueless as to what was happening, while acted like he did. He didn't like how everything seemed so familiar, yet so distant and far away. When he locked eyes with Annabeth's swirl of grey, he was determined somehow that she was the only thing that he could keep. "We're staying together," he promised. No way was he running away to quit when it went a little hard. They could handle this. "You're not getting away from me. Never again."

"As long as we're together," she told him with a determined flame in her eyes. Voices were screaming above him, but all he could hear was the thudding of his heart. With one glance of the dark and her eyes, he let go of the ledge and fell into darkness.

***...*...***

"You sure you're real?" a Latino boy asked a seemingly invisible girl beside one with cocoa-coloured skin. "I mean ... flesh and blood?"

"Flesh and blood," she answered quietly and touched the boy's face, making him flinch.

"So ... you have to repeat everything?"

"Everything."

The guy smirked, glancing at his companion with a mischievous look in his eye. "That could be fun."

Invisible Girl looked down depressingly. "Fun."

"Blue elephants."

"Blue elephants."

"Kiss me, you fool."

"You fool."

"Hey!"

"Hey!"

"Leo," his companion girl pleaded, "don't tease her."

Percy couldn't help but chuckle quietly at his humour, remembering the ways of the Stolls. This guy could fit in with the two easily. But he noticed the manic look in Leo's eyes seemed as if he was on coffee all the time. Or on drugs.

Which was, you know. A little intimidating.

His companion didn't look slightly distracted by his behaviour and carried on discussing with Invisible Girl. With her golden eyes and frizzy black hair, she was practically a clone of little Rue. Maybe she _was _Rue, in a different time and world.

But before he got to talk, the world around him swirled around and changed. The occasional cloud gathered together to make a sky full of dull grey. Instead of a pleasant shade of nutritious green, the ground suddenly felt squidgy and muddy, and the grass accompanied some blotches of brown. Huge empty stands surrounded the area, and three metal hoops from either side of what looked like a pitch appeared.

Two teams of people, one dressed with black and green and one dressed with scarlet and gold, carried broomsticks, making him raise his eyebrows. Team Green looked at the opposing as if they were the scum of the earth, as Team Red glared at the other with utter disgust and annoyance.

"But I booked the pitch!" a guy with a Scottish accent, who looked like the leader of Team Ted, exploded. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said one from the Green Team – with a Brittish accent that was worth giggling over – looking smug and as if he outsmarted everyone. "But I've got a specially signed note from Professor Snape. _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practise today on the Quidditch pitch, owing to the need to train their new Seeker._"

"You've got a new Seeker? Where?"

A small, white-skinned boy with pale blonde hair stepped forward, a smirk playing on his long face. He looked like a typical snobby rich kid, looking at the Red Team as if he was so incredibly brilliant.

Percy concluded that he didn't like this boy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" a tall redhead asked, his twin standing beside him.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," the one with the note said, amused. His whole team seemed to catch on and grinned. They weren't even _nice_ smiles. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

The bunch of them held out their broomsticks (Percy was still puzzled with this) that looked smoother than the Red Team's, with handles and golden writing written on the side. He attempted to read it, but his dyslexia gave out again.

Damn.

Note Guy seemed to explain the broom in length, and Percy just zoned out for a while, taking in the tall hoops on both sides and the massive pitch before seeing two figures coming towards them. "Oh look," Note Guy said. "A pitch invasion."

It took a few seconds to realise who the girl was. Bushy brown hair, brown eyes – it was clearly Hermione. But she didn't look quite as pretty as the last time he saw her, instead looked rather plain. The boy beside her had flaming red hair, blue eyes and a robe that looked quite tatty. "What's happening?" he asked a particular person in the Red Team. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he _doing here?"

Percy walked around to get a better look at the person he was talking to, and raised his eyebrows. It was Harry, with his jet-black unruly hair, green almond-shaped eyes and the peculiar scar. It was almost laughable at how different he looked, with the knobbly knees and the skinny body.

Draco – he remembered – only smirked. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," he spat snottily. "Everyone's just admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

The Weasley dude gaped at the brooms, and Percy guessed that in his eyes they were sheer brilliance.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

His snobby friends howled with laughter, but Percy didn't get the insult. It was far too complicated for him to take it personally. Not that he was in the Red Team; he just felt for them.

You know. Being the guys who were just trying to do right thing but still looked like the bad guys all the time.

"At least no one in the Gryffindor team had to _buy _their way in," Hermione shot back. "_They _got in by pure talent."

To his pleasure, Draco's smirk quivered. "No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

***...*...***

"Harry, shush, he's waking up."

"Is he?"

"_Shh!_"

"Is he okay? How'd you do it?"

He heard Annabeth let out a relieved breath, and felt her hand slipping into his. "Well done Rue."

"What?" he said groggily, attempting to get up but everything span around, and he fell back with a thud. "What happened?"

"You were drunk and high," she told him, and immediately got elbowed by Hermione. "I mean, the tracker jackers stung you a couple of times."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Percy bit back a laugh when he saw little Harry in his mind. "Rue came by with some leaves – What are you smiling at?"

He let out a laugh. "Nothing."


	24. Chapter 24

**THANKS FOR THE 200 REVIEWS THING! Well, 213 now, but you know, 200's a BIG NUMBER!**

**WOOP WOOP! *APPLAUDS REVIEWERS AND FAVOURITERS AND FOLLOWERS AND READERS***

**This chapter is REALLY IMPORTANT. Just saying. And it's not really in anyone's POV.**

**And also, I AM SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING. I've been going through a Harry Potter stage, ya know? It's a weird fanficitional life I lead ...**

* * *

Chapter 24

She was furious. Hazel eyes glazing over from the rage, fists clenched to the point that her nails were digging into her palms, eyebrows crossed, on the verge of hyperventilating – it wasn't a sight that someone particularly wanted to see. "Just _how _did that happen, exactly?" she said in a scary-calm sort of voice, glaring at the redhead looking up at her from his seat.

"They went to the loo," he said defensively, trying not to cower from her penetrating glower. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he repeated his statement with more depth. "When I was with you at the Ball, I saw them going to the loo."

"Which loo?"

"Men's."

"Do you know what they _DID_?" she burst, her blushing to the point that her ears turned almost as red as her hair.

"Oh, Merlin, no, Ginny, they didn't do that," he said quickly, some red decorating his cheeks. To get it over and done with, he swallowed, knowing that he'd regret saying anything afterwards, and blurted, "_Butwedon'tknowwhattheydid_."

"WHAT?" she exploded. "I thought you were _Aurors_!"

"We are!" he countered, but in a much calmer voice than his sister's. "It's just ... there was no trace of them when we examined the cubicles – no hair, no clothes, nothing."

"Did they Apparate?"

He shook his head.

"Why would they do that anyway?" she asked rhetorically. "And if they did, wouldn't they be back by now?"

"'Suppose so," he shrugged. "Hermione would've come back to say goodbye before she went back to Hogwarts."

"It's been _a month_, Ron!" she screeched. "And I'm beginning to sound like _Mum_!"

"Right. Ginny, relax. They – they'll come back," he said, more to reassure himself than anything. "Harry might've gone on a surprise mission and needed 'Mione to come, or something. Wherever they are, they'll find a way back."

"Thank Merlin Hermione loves you, Ron," Ginny said with a tired exhale of air, and sat next to her brother on the couch as her godson's calls filled the air. She sighed, resting her palms on the sides of her forehead, her eyes brimming with tears. "She would've just ditched you and run off if she didn't."

"You never know, Harry might've ran away from you and your deathly scary glares," he mumbled under his breath, receiving a punch in result. He ringed his arm around her shoulders in a supportive sort of half-hug with a comfortable nudge.

He knew his luck would run out before too long, since a certain toddler entered the room, plodding with unsure steps but grinning nevertheless. His natural thick brown hair instantly changed into its usual bluey turquoise hair. He wore that cute playful smirk that Ron realised Tonks used to use, and the nearly two-year-old boy squirmed as if it was some sort of victorious battle cry when he came charging towards Ron. All the breath knocked out of the Weasley when Teddy knocked him back into the sofa, wheezing out a defeated "oof".

"Oh, look at this," Ginny said excitedly, picking Teddy up to sit on her knee, momentarily forgetting about her boyfriend's disappearance once seeing the kid. "Teddy, honk honk!"

Since Ron hardly had time to visit the Potter Manor or Andromeda Tonks recently due to a load of missions, he didn't notice Ted's Metamorphagus skills developing. So that's why his jaw dropped in surprise as Teddy's small nose elongated and enlarged into a shape of a horn. He made incoherent noises as his amber eyes twinkled.

"Who's a good Metamorphagus, hmm?" Ginny said sweetly, tickling his small chubby body. She laid his laughing, struggling body and lifted up _Weird Sisters _shirt – originally his mother's – and blew on his belly, making a raspberry sound. Teddy's innocent laughter turned into howls. "You are! Yes, you –"

"Ginny, he's not a dog," Ron laughed, eventually joining in with teasing the young Lupin gladly.

He had to admit, the kid did pretty strange things, even without the whole changing appearances thing. He had a habit for squeezing every unfamiliar person's nose and ears, and seemed to laugh at things that were actually really serious. When he sat on the floor, he couldn't keep still and decided to do a backward roll, incidentally knocking into a lamp, making it fall down.

"I'm supposed to look after him for the weekend," his sister told him as she watchfully gazed at her godson, who was attacking a doll by banging it on the ground repeatedly. "Andy said that I needed the company. I do like the big house and everything, but it feels so ... _empty_ sometimes without anyone else around."

***...*...***

She panted, her knuckles turning into a pale white as she stood on top of the metal dragon's mechanical stomach. Jake was giving her a victorious smirk from the dragon's neck – all she replied with was a roll of her eyes and an impassive grunt.

"I just disabled its attack mode," he said, as if expecting some kind of applause. Noticing Clarisse's rather intimidating look – why did everyone think they were so special round here? Yankees were so _annoying _sometimes – he added, "For now." He turned to the others down below. "How are you guys doing down there?"

"Great!" Travis said with a thumbs up and a grin, as his twin gestured at the two twinkling diamonds in one hand and a crowbar in the other.

Katie, noticing the crowbar, asked as the two climbed down the dragon, "How'd you get that?"

"We remembered that we dropped it two years ago on that Quintus activity thing," Connor explained loudly, like it was the most obvious answer.

Clarisse raised her eyebrows. "You thought that a crowbar was a valuable weapon worthy to fight with huge scorpions?"

"Yeah."

Katie rolled her eyes and looked around, expecting to still see that green mist – but it wasn't there. She knitted her eyebrows in thought. "Where's the green thing?" she asked.

"It's ... I don't know," Will corrected, setting his eyes at empty clearing where the mist was. Everyone gave each other uneasy looks, fearing for their two most powerful leaders – all but Clarisse, whose blood was boiling at their cowardly thinking.

At least she, the daughter of Ares, knew that a warrior could fight alone, without a leader, without one to lean back on and turn to for answers that clearly couldn't be answered. It was what she learnt to do in this place. To fight for herself, and herself alone.

She would've left already if it wasn't for Chris.

Clarisse shrugged. "They're in the future now, right? Discussion ended. Let's go."

***...*...***

Ginny never stopped waiting.

She stood there, the cold rain trickling down her back as she stared, transfixed at the stone in front of her. Her usual bouncy scarlet mane was now a dark blood-red tied hastily in a ponytail. Normally she would've felt proud of the Harpies uniform that clung to her petite frame, but now all she felt was numbness.

It had been six years from that night. Six years were she had the Potter house to herself, even though she was still a Weasley. Six years since Ted had his first birthday. Six years since most of her brothers were growing families around her. Six years since ...

Well. Since she'd been happy.

It wasn't as if she was _nothing _without the Boy Who Lived. No, she wasn't hopeless, she wasn't weak. She _couldn't _be weak. Not with Teddy around, not with Victoire and Dominique and a toddling Fred Weasley Number Two. She couldn't be breaking, crumbling to pieces, when her family was preoccupied with their own lives, and needed her.

She slumped to the muddy ground, her eyes not leaving the stone in fear that it would go away. Tears threatened to fall. It wasn't every day that the Quidditch player cried – just when she felt so hopeless, so lonely. Like this lonely, black December evening, with only the moon for company.

Why wasn't she with the rest of her family, celebrating the birth of yet another baby? Why wasn't she rejoicing that little Roxanne came into the world this very morning? Why wasn't she _happy_?

_Why couldn't she be happy?_

But she already knew the answer. It was right in front of her, on this stone. This stupid big stone that stood alone on the hill, overlooking a lake that made this Muggle town so beautiful.

She knew the answer off by heart.

_Harry James Potter,_

_The Boy Who Lived, Loved and Lost._

_ 1980 – 1999. _

***...*...***

Clarisse didn't even say goodbye.

She knew she should've. She _knew_, when he walked out the door, that she shouldn't have said that she hated him. Despised him. She shouldn't have said that she never loved him, that she just pitied his madness and pathetic ability.

Which she did, at first. That was why she took him in the first place. But it was when he stirred in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words, his eyebrows crossed, that she realised that maybe she did have feelings for this Hispanic Hermes's boy that shared glances at her in camp just years before. That maybe when he called out crazy, manic things, it worried her more than it should have.

She didn't even _cry_.

When everyone else was crying – Rachel, the Stolls, Will, Jake, his friends, his mother – all she did was stare at his peaceful face, the flames engulfing him. She almost wanted to reach out, stop the fire that blazed and burnt his tanned skin, stroke his hand, feel his lips _one last time _...

But no.

Clarisse La Rue did not _cry_.

All she felt now was pain. Anger. Anger at the soul-taking, heart-breaking, dark, dark god they called Hades. How could he rip him off this earth, when he was so truthful, so honest – when he was such a brave demigod? Surely he could go on other quests. Twenty three wasn't the retiring age of a demigod, she knew. Why couldn't he _wait_?

The first sign was that she kept throwing up. It wasn't anything that was truly disgusting – she'd been fighting many battles and weren't the slightest put off – but the moment she really felt nauseous was when Rachel burst through her apartment door, her cheeks decorated with red and her red hair ruffled from the windy air outside.

And the two words that came out of her mouth were so _not _what Clarisse was expecting.

"You're pregnant," she had said.

***...*...***

"Ginny," Victoire said excitedly from in front of her, holding her hands with hers and buzzing with life. All her aunt was staring at was her engagement ring, smiling. "Ginny, I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down, sweetheart," she said, grinning at her niece. "It's okay. You'll be _fine_. Vic, stop jumping, please, you're giving me a headache."

"Sorry," Vic said quickly, but she didn't seem the slightest bit apologetic. Ginny didn't seem to mind; she guessed it was a bride thing. "It's just ... what if he says _no_?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow unconvincingly at the blonde, looking directly across her like she used to when she and Ted would be funny little nuisances. She dropped the young Weasley's hands and crossed her arms. "Why would Teddy say no?"

"I dunno!" she answered loudly. "I mean, Louis always shows me these Muggle movies when the groom ditches the bride at the altar, and maybe Ted will suddenly changed his mind – Aunt Ginny, _don't _look at me like that, it CAN happen, you never know – and Uncle Ron –"

"_Victoire_," Ginny breathed tiredly. "What did I tell you before? Ron and everyone else will do _anything _to make you nervous, because they want you to be that little Vic that frolicked around the garden. But I don't, because _I'm_ your favourite aunt."

She felt pretty proud of that pep talk, if she did say so herself, because it was mostly true. George even tried to dye the bridesmaids' dresses a snotty green the night before, but got caught red-handed by a fuming Fleur.

"Thanks, Ginny," Victoire told her, hooking an arm around her aunt's neck and pulling her into a hug. "For everything you've done."

"Can't believe the day's finally come!" Ginny chirped, happy tears clouding her vision. "I was getting a bit impatient, you know."

She was, too. Nearly broke her teacup once when Ted told her he failed to ask the _important question_ for about the thousandth time in a month, and when he finally did it she was dancing.

"Oh, Merlin, you're making me cry," the redhead laughed, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "Bill will be so disappointed in me."

Victoire giggled. "By the rate I'm going, he'll probably be more miffed with me for not being able to sit down for one second."

Ginny stepped back for a second, studying Victoire's beautiful gown that hugged her perfect, tall frame and curves. Her usual silver strands were curled and styled into a prettily messy bun at the back of her head. It almost set her off again, but this time not for the happiest of reasons. She forced a smile at her niece, who frowned at her, concerned.

She always did wonder what it felt like to be in a dress like Victoire's, despite her warnings to herself not to start wishing. She always used to think that Harry would be the one who would get down on one knee with a ring – but she remembered telling herself that she didn't _care_ how. She remembered that she couldn't care less whether he was covered in blood and grime or in a fancy suit, or whether he gave her a candy ring or a one with a massive, bejewelled diamond – as long as he just _asked_ ...

And that he was Harry, of course. She couldn't imagine herself being with anyone but the Boy Who Lived.

Now nearly forty, she had come to realise that it would never happen.


End file.
